Plowed
by GeekChic12
Summary: On a dreary Monday morning, he plowed right in to her life. Will she see him for who he is and let him in? ExB, AH
1. Inches

**This idea was born while everyone was complaining about shoveling snow every morning this winter on Twitter. I'm not sure exactly where it's going to go at this point, but... we'll see! :)**

**Thanks to Twilly for pre-reading this on short notice. Mwah!**

**SM owns all things Twilight. Everything else is mine, including any mistakes.**

**Please to be enjoying Snowplowward. :D**

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**Chapter 1 - Inches**

"Oh, fuck _off_," I mutter at my alarm. Hitting snooze brings the sweetest kind of relief, and I sink back down into the warmth and softness of my bed.

After the third snooze alarm goes off, I finally peel the covers off, shivering as I shuffle to the bathroom.

The snooze button was my best friend half an hour ago, but now I'm rushing to get going. I'll be right on time for work as long as I can find something clean to wear and don't spend too long in the shower.

I know it's cold as fuck outside, so I throw my heavy coat and beanie on, wrapping my scarf around my neck just before stepping out the door.

Into at least eight inches of snow.

"Noooooo," I whine. Turning around, I head back to my room and grab an extra pair of jeans, tucking them inside my coat. A rummage through my closet yields a pair of boots that won't be quite high enough to keep the snow out. Hitching my scarf high enough to rest on the bridge of my nose, I grab my ice scraper out of the entryway closet and open the door again with a resigned sigh. I'm not even going to bother calling work. I know they'll be open. Asshats.

Both of my roommates' boyfriends spent the night last night, so I parked on the curb, not wanting to block them in. "Fuck me." Trudging through the snow, I mutter under my breath, cursing my roommates and their healthy sex lives. Mostly because of the car situation, but also because it's been so long for me, I'm convinced my hymen is growing back.

Once I'm halfway down the driveway, I hear the rumbling engine of a truck coming up the street. "No, no, no, no, no." It's a plow. And he's going to fucking bury my poor little car.

Sure enough, as I look on in horror, the red truck cruises right on by, piling a mountain of snow up against the driver's side door of my little Honda.

With a frustrated scream, I launch my ice scraper at the truck, fully expecting to miss and so pissed I don't even care that I'll have to go retrieve it from a snow bank. My eyes widen when it ricochets off the back window and the truck's brake lights glow bright red in the dull morning light.

"Oh, shit," I mutter, looking around for a place to hide, which… yeah, isn't happening. I'm past the boys' cars, and the driver is already out of his truck and looking, or more likely glaring, right at me. He inspects the side of the truck and then shakes his head, looking around for a moment before bending down to pick up the missile I launched at him.

As he walks toward me, I inch backwards. He's tall and bulky, with a beard covering the lower half of his face. Intimidating.

"I believe this belongs to you?" He's close enough now to hold the long scraper out to me, but he keeps closing in on me. His voice is gruff, and I take another step backward, my ass meeting the trunk of Ben's snow-covered car.

Thank God I grabbed extra jeans.

"Y—yes." Dammit. I didn't want my voice to shake like that, but it _is_ about ten fucking degrees out here, so I guess it was inevitable.

"You wanna tell me why you threw it at my truck?"

"Uh…" I can see his eyes now. I can't place them, but they seem familiar. Deep forest green. Angry.

"You scratched the paint on the side of the bed."

"I'm… sorry." I'm lost for a second in his eyes. Framed by thick, dark lashes, they narrow slightly as he scratches at the scruff on his face and clears his throat, breaking my daze. "No, wait. I'm not fucking sorry. I need to get to work, and your stupid plow just buried my car under _eight thousand feet_ of snow."

His voice sounds smoother when he speaks again, and he lifts his eyebrows at me. "You shouldn't have parked on the street with so much snow comin'." He shrugs.

Adjusting my scarf to keep my face half-covered, I roll my eyes. "Well, _ob_viously. But the stupid weather guy is almost always wrong. Seems like every time they call for eight to ten inches, all we get is two or three."

A smirk pulls at one side of his mouth.

"_What_?"

Amusement is all over his face. "Nothing. Just… You seem disappointed in the usual lack of... _inches_."

Narrowing my eyes at him, I fight back a snicker and my knee-jerk response, which is to say, 'that's what she said,' and instead say, "Are you serious right now? I don't have time for this. I'm already gonna be late as it is."

"You were really gonna drive in this?" he asks me.

"I _am_ gonna drive in this. If I can unearth my car, that is."

We're standing about a foot apart on the snow-covered driveway, and an intense shiver runs through me. Whether it's from the way his eyes study me or the cold, wet snow saturating my jeans, I'm not sure.

"You should get back inside. I'll shovel you out." He turns back toward his truck, adjusting his sock cap and pulling gloves out of his jacket pockets.

I tilt my head as he walks away.

His ass doesn't look half bad in those jeans.

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**Thank you for reading! xoxo**


	2. Tree

***sigh* I love you guys so much. Pretty sure I have the absolute best readers around. :D Thank you all for following along and leaving me so much love!**

**Huge thanks to Twilly for squeezing in her pre-read before work this morning so we could have a little more Plow-ward.**

**SM owns all things Twilight. Everything else is mine, including any mistakes.**

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**Chapter 2 - Tree**

Once I'm back inside the warmth of my house, I press my back against the door for a moment to catch my breath and chastise myself for ogling the surly, yet kinda pervy and funny snow plow guy. Shedding my hat, coat, and scarf, I head back to my room to get out of my wet jeans. I'll likely get another pair wet when I go back out, but I can't just sit in these. My ass cheeks are fucking freezing, so I put on my warmest pair of sweats and wait.

I peek out the window every few minutes to check on his progress. And maybe to ogle him a little more.

He's just so big and burly. _Manly_.

The last guy I dated got manicures and wouldn't be caught dead with a beard.

I drop the curtain like it burned me when he looks up toward the house and move to the kitchen to find something to do.

Coffee. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's making coffee. Getting up at the ass-crack of dawn to work as a barista isn't ideal, but the tips are better in the morning, and grad school is fucking expensive.

I get some espresso shots ready and steam some milk on our machine—best purchase we ever made for this place. A parade of housemates and boyfriends comes through upon smelling the coffee, and I end up making lattes or cappuccinos for all of them. I'd be at work now anyway if not for the snow, so I figure what the hell.

Jessica decides to make waffles, so I start some bacon. Once everything is ready, the two couples take their food and retreat back to their rooms to enjoy the snow day in sex-filled bliss. Ugh.

I don't even want to know what they're going to do with the syrup.

When Angela offered to sit and eat with me, I waved her off. I'd like to ogle in peace, thank you very much.

I should probably feel guilty, objectifying him like this. But hell, I have no plans to launch any more projectiles at plow trucks, so it's not like I'm going to see him again after he's finished shoveling.

Just as I set my plate on the table, my phone beeps with an incoming text, and there's a sharp knock on the front door. Reading the text and replying as I walk, I check the peephole when I get to the door. With a guilty sigh, I open it to see snow plow guy standing there, cheeks flushed and breathing heavy clouds of steam into the air in front of him.

He can plow me anytime.

Jesus, where did _that_ thought come from?

He stares at me for a moment with his mouth hanging open, and then I hear a soft "fucking knew it" leave his mouth.

My brows furrow. "What?"

"You're Bella, right? Bella Swan?"

"Uh…" My arm instinctively starts to inch the door closed. "Yeah? How did you know that?"

"Couldn't see your whole face before with the scarf." He gestures at the bottom half of his face, and I wonder what it would feel like to run my hands through that beard. "But yeah." Oh, he's still talking. "I went to Oak Park High School with you."

My neck jerks back in surprise. "You _did_?" Apart from the vaguely familiar eyes, I don't recognize him at all.

"Yeah." He scratches a glove-covered finger across his eyebrow. "Anyway, I'm finished."

My guilt returns as I peek around his hulky frame and see my clean car. He also shoveled the part of the driveway with no cars on it and the sidewalk leading to the front door. "I'm so sorry," I breathe out, stepping back to open the door all the way. I can't feel my toes. "Come inside. Let me feed you. It's the least I can do."

"What are you sorry about?" he asks as he stomps the snow off his boots on the welcome mat.

"My boss just texted me. She's not opening the shop after all, so it looks like I don't actually need to go anywhere."

"Hmph," he grunts with a slight scowl.

"But I have waffles and bacon and coffee." I give him what I hope is an apologetic smile. "And we could catch up, maybe?"

"I need to finish my route."

My shoulders slump in defeat. "Oh." Where is the smirky guy from earlier?

"Your street is the last, though, so I could uh... finish it and come back." He shifts on his feet and can't seem to meet my eyes. "If you'd like."

Grinning, I nod at him. "I'll keep some breakfast warm for you."

* * *

I sip my coffee and wait. I check my hair for the tenth time, and it still looks the same. Long. Dark brown. Nothing spectacular. Running my fingers through it one last time, I rush to the door when he knocks again. For some reason, there's a tingly feeling in my stomach.

Okay, I know the reason.

Apparently this hot piece of man is someone I went to freaking high school with and knows my name. _And_ he came back, which means he must want to spend some time with me. That, or he's just hungry.

Either way, I feel terrible and need to do _something_ for him for all the work he did.

A slight shiver runs through me when I open the door for him a second time, looking up at his handsome face.

So tall.

"Hey."

"Hey."

I smile shyly. "Come on in and have a seat at the table." He steps over the threshold and removes his boots, placing them by the door. Walking to the kitchen to get our food, I mutter to myself, "God, I would climb that man like a tree."

"What?"

"Fuck," I gasp out, whirling around with my hand on my chest.

"Sorry," he says, hands in the air, palms out—tit-level. His eyes dip down, widening, and he snaps his hands down to his sides. "Could I use your bathroom?"

My eyes bounce from his _very_ large hands, long fingers twitching by his thighs, to his face. "Oh. Uh, sure." I point toward the hall. "It's the second door on your left."

"Thanks," he mutters, stalking off and running a hand through his hair, causing his sock cap to fall back. He catches it, and I get a glimpse of dark strands sticking up in all directions.

When he emerges, I ask how he likes his coffee.

"Black."

"Oh. You don't drink lattes or cappuccinos? Anything like that?"

"That froo-froo, half-caff, soy, French vanilla with extra foam crap?"

Giggling, I nod. "Something like that."

"Nah."

"Okay." I make him an Americano and bring it to him along with a plate piled high with waffles and crispy bacon. Returning to the kitchen, I bring out a bottle of warmed syrup and my own plate.

"Thanks, Bella," he says quietly, picking up his fork. He's taken his jacket off to reveal a heavy green plaid shirt with a white t-shirt underneath.

"You're welcome…" I trail off, sipping my coffee and hoping he'll fill in the blank.

"Edward."

Shock makes me choke and splutter on my drink. Wiping my mouth with a napkin, I run my eyes over him again. The hair color is right. And the eyes. But nothing else about him resembles the only Edward I knew at Oak Park High. "Edward M—Masen?" I stutter out.

He nods, his gaze dropping to his plate as he digs in.

"Holy shit," I breathe. "You look so…"

"Different. I know." He shrugs, shoveling another huge bite of waffle into his mouth.

"Well, I was gonna say great, but yeah, different for sure."

Edward offers me a tilted smile, a piece of bacon halfway to his mouth. "You look great too, Bella." That smile widens into a full-on grin. "And exactly the same."

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**I should have said this in chapter one, but there is no posting schedule for this. It was kind of a spur of the moment thing. The chapters will be shortish. You guys know me by now. I'm not a huge fan of long chapters. If you need to flounce, no hard feelings. **

**Thank you so much for reading! xoxo**


	3. Refrigerator

**You guys are so amazing. I can't thank you enough for leaving me so much love. I hate that I can't reply to everyone, but I read and appreciate them all so much.**

**Huge thanks to Twilly and Sophiacorgi for going over this for me!**

**SM owns all things Twilight. Everything else is mine, including any mistakes.**

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**Chapter 3 - Refrigerator**

"I actually…" Edward stops and laughs softly, shaking his head and taking a sip of coffee. His food is gone—devoured in huge bites like he hadn't eaten in a month. And now we sit with empty plates and full mugs, reminiscing on our time in high school. "I actually sent you one of those secret admirer candy-grams on Valentine's Day your senior year."

I gasp softly. "You did not."

Nodding, he gives me that tilted smile. "I did." His eyes crinkle in the corners as he chuckles.

"Wow." Smiling, I think back to that day, remembering how I felt when I opened the little card attached to a red heart-shaped lollipop. _If you were mine, I'd tell you every single day how beautiful you are, inside and out. Happy Valentine's Day, Bella. Love, Your Secret Admirer. _It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me. My heart fluttered as I'd looked around the cafeteria that day at lunch, around the halls between classes, wanting to know _so_ badly who'd sent it to me. "I always wondered who that was from."

"You only got one?" Edward asks.

Clearing my throat, I nod and look down into my coffee mug as I lift it to take another sip. "I still have that note." There's shock all over his face when I look back up at him. "It was perfect."

The apples of his cheeks turn pink as he runs a hand through his short hair. The smile is back on his lips, and I want to kiss it.

Silence stretches between us after our revelations, and we finish our coffee, sneaking glances over the tops of our mugs at each other with shy smiles.

Sitting back in his chair after his mug is drained, Edward groans and pats his stomach. "That was good. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Bella Swan," he says for about the fifth time, smiling and shaking his head like he's still in disbelief.

"In the flesh."

Edward's eyebrows lift. "Don't I know it," he mumbles, looking down. It feels like he's going to leave soon, and the disappointment sits heavily in my stomach. He lifts his coffee mug but realizes it's empty and sets it back down, his dark green eyes suddenly meeting mine again.

I'm caught by those eyes, trapped. My stomach flips as he continues to gaze at me, almost like he's studying me again, the same way he did when we were outside. To keep myself from pouncing on him, I stand and pick up my plate.

Edward's warm hand wraps around my wrist when I move to take his plate. "Let me." Our gazes lock again, and all my breath seems to leave my body at once. He's _so_ close. He smells like outside, crisp and clean with a hint of whatever he used in the shower this morning. It wouldn't take much to lean down and kiss him, and I feel my body start to bend toward him like a plant to the sun. He blinks, eyes dipping down to my lips, which I wet with my tongue. His darkened eyes shoot back up to mine, and I release a heavy breath.

I always did love those eyes.

Years ago, they'd been set in a pimply face that not enough people could look past to see the person underneath. His reddish hair was kind of long and shaggy, and he had a mouth full of metal. Edward was a year behind me in school, so we didn't interact much. But I remember him being gangly and uncoordinated. Either that or he was being tripped a lot. Some of the bullies in our school were relentless.

I'd helped him a few times in the cafeteria after his lunch tray had landed with a loud clatter and splattered food on the floor. Those beautiful green eyes were always so angry when they would first meet mine. We never really spoke to each other, but I'd give him a small but warm smile, and his eyes would soften a little. He'd utter a quiet, "thank you," and we'd go on with our very different lives.

I wasn't exactly among the most popular girls in school, but I was well-liked. I had friends in all different social circles within our class. Being on the dance team might have given the illusion that I was quite popular, but I kept to myself more than people probably realized. I didn't go to a lot of parties and didn't date much.

Edward removes his hand from my skin, snapping me out of my thoughts and making me stand up straight, breaking the spell. Clearing his throat, he stands to gather his dishes, and I turn and head to the sink, muttering to myself about how dumb I am. Just because he may have liked me way back in high school, that doesn't mean he would now that we're all grown up.

And boy, has he grown up.

Shivering at that thought, I turn on the water to rinse my plate and feel him step up behind me. His body heat envelops me as he moves in close, reaching around me to set his plate in the sink. As he pulls his hand back, though, it stops and rests heavily on my shoulder for a moment... gauging. When I continue my absentminded rinsing but don't move away from him, Edward's hand moves to my hair, sweeping it to my other shoulder. He leans down and runs his nose up the column of my neck, and my head automatically lolls to the side to give him more access.

"Bella," he whispers. It's a plea, a request for an invitation I'm all too happy to give.

My body feels weak, the shivers coming non-stop. All I can do is nod as my eyes fall shut, and my breaths become faster and heavier.

"Mmm, yeah. You feel it too." His voice is husky and deep, his confident words causing a shudder to roll through me. My brain feels like mush, but it's functioning just enough to get my hands to turn off the faucet before they spread wide and grip the counter tightly to keep myself upright as Edward's lips replace his nose on my skin. He lays soft kisses up and down my neck, his scruff tickling and adding to the tingling sensation rushing through me.

His hands slide down my arms and land on top of my hands, prying my fingers off the counter and bringing my arms up to lock around his neck. It makes my back arch, my breasts jutting forward and ass pressing against him.

A deep groan rumbles out of him when my hips undulate, providing him with the friction I know he's craving. Big hands latch on to my waist and stay there for a moment before traveling down to my hips. I let him move me how he wants, and he pulls me harder against him, eliciting a moan I can't stifle.

Edward's so much taller than me that my head rests on his chest underneath his chin. With my arms still hooked around his neck, I move my fingers up into his hair, scratching at his scalp as he pushes his erection into my ass. "God_damn_," he grunts. "I want you so bad."

My whimper is embarrassing, but I couldn't care less right now.

"Always have," he mumbles.

My brows furrow in confusion when his hands leave me all of a sudden, and he pries _my_ hands out of his hair. But then I'm spun around, and his lips land hard on mine, one hand gripping the base of my skull and the other pressing into the small of my back, bringing me in as close as possible. My hands go right back into his hair as I return his kiss, clawing at him desperately. Wanting, _needing_ to be even closer, I push at him with my body, and we end up moving around the kitchen, pawing at each other, mouths locked together like we're providing the other's oxygen.

I land against the refrigerator with an _oomph_.

"Sorry," Edward breathes into my mouth, immediately covering it with his own again.

My responding moan translates to: _It's so fucking okay. Please never stop mauling me._

He can't seem to decide where to put his hands. They glide all over, stopping to squeeze my ass, pull a thigh up, cup a breast. One makes its way to the waistband of my sweats, a single finger dipping inside, making my stomach muscles jump in anticipation. The hollow ache I've been feeling between my legs intensifies with the promise of being filled.

"Please," I whisper.

"Anything." His whole hand dives in, straight under my panties. No messing around. His thumb, rough from hard work, finds my clit easily, pressing and circling as one long finger slides inside me at the same time. My head tips back, and his hot mouth is against my neck instantly.

I'm breathless. On fire.

_This. Man._

My fingers grip at the back of his neck, holding on for dear life when a second finger stretches me. "_Fuck_, you're tight," he murmurs into the skin of my neck as his hips surge forward, rubbing his hard-on against my stomach. Edward's thumb moves against me perfectly while his fingertips press on my G-spot. They don't rub. Just press and hold.

It's the sweetest brand of torture. Just on the verge of too much, and the tension builds inside me so fast, I let out a surprised and too-loud moan.

Edward's free hand covers my mouth, and he moves his lips to my ear. "Shhh. I don't want anyone but me to see you like this—cheeks flushed, just about to come. You're fucking beautiful."

He pulls back, and his eyes burn in to mine. Panting against his hand, I try like hell to keep my eyes open and on his as the electric zaps of pleasure assault me. My head presses harder into the cool surface of the refrigerator as my orgasm barrels down on me. And when Edward suddenly curls those fingers inside, dragging them against that spot in just the right way, it's all over for me.

My eyes squeeze shut, and a scream, thankfully muffled by his hand, leaves my mouth.

"Shit, Bella," Edward says, dropping his hand from my face and breathing heavily with his lips against my hairline. "So fucking sexy."

With no fanfare, he removes his hand from my pants and sucks the two fingers that were inside me into his mouth, closing his eyes and groaning at the taste.

My pussy clenches hard at the sight, the aftershock almost as strong as the orgasm I just had. Watching his wet fingers slide out of his mouth, I lean on the fridge, my legs barely holding me up. "Do…" I swallow thickly and lick my lips. "Do you have anywhere to be today?" My words are breathy and laced with the desperation I feel to keep him here with me just a little while longer.

With a lazy smirk, he strokes my cheek with his knuckles. "Yeah."

Disappointed, my heart sinks, and I drop my gaze to our feet. We're so close, one of his large socked feet is between mine.

Edward's thumb and forefinger grasp my chin, tilting my face back up to him, and hope sparks in my chest at the glint in his eyes. "Right here," he says with a sexy smile. "With you."

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**So, yeah. By silliness, I meant smuttiness. :D Still with me?**

**Thank you for reading! xoxo**


	4. Still Waters

**You guys have seriously blown me away with the love for this story! I can't thank you enough. I wish so much that I had time to reply to everyone. **

**Thanks for being so patient! I haven't had a lot of time to write lately, and then PlowWard wanted to be difficult when I did.**

**Big thanks to Twilly and Sophiacorgi for their help with this!**

**SM owns all things Twilight. Everything else is mine, including any mistakes.**

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**Chapter 4 - Still Waters**

Back in my room alone, I frantically pick up the clothes and shoes strewn all over. Everything gets tossed into my closet, and I straighten up my bed… even though I'm kind of hoping it'll just get messed up again.

Seriously. It's been _years _since I've had an orgasm that good. I've been so busy with college and everything, I've barely had a social life. And if Edward can do that with just one hand… A shiver skitters down my spine as I scan the room one more time. A shoe sticking out from under my bed joins the closet pile, and I open my door, smiling up at Edward. He's leaning against the wall right outside my room, one foot propped up behind him. Pushing off to face me, he stares down at me with intense green eyes.

Normally, I'd be creeped out by a guy staring at me this way, but _his_ eyes… I _want_ them on me. Everywhere.

One corner of his mouth lifts as I keep smiling softly at him. In my next breath, his hands thread through the back of my hair, and his lips mold to mine as he walks me backward and kicks the door closed with his foot. His scruff is just long enough to not stab me as we make out like we probably would have if we'd dated back in high school.

Edward's tongue slides against mine, flicking and teasing when we take breaths. When my hand presses hard against his erection, his teeth sink in to my bottom lip, pulling a desperate groan from me. His hands wrap around my wrists, though, when I move to unbutton his jeans. "You don't have to," he pants.

"But I want to," I reply against his lips, continuing to taste him. He tastes like our breakfast—salty-sweet, delicious.

"We can slow down and… talk." Edward's body presses mine against the wall, contradicting his words with the way he grinds against me and owns my mouth.

"Yeah," I breathe. "Talk." Both of my hands grip his firm ass and press him harder into me, and he moans against my chin, kissing his way across my jaw and down my throat. His hand pulls at the neckline of my shirt until my shoulder is exposed, and his lips keep moving across my skin, teeth nipping at my bra strap.

He's turned me into one big, quivering pile of need. It doesn't matter that not ten minutes ago, I came harder than I have in a long time.

I want more.

Hooking my arms around his solid neck, I try lifting my leg to his hip, but he's just _so_ tall. On my second attempt, Edward catches on and grasps behind my knee.

"Is this you climbing me like a tree?" He chuckles, and I gasp.

"Dammit. You heard that?"

"Of course I did." He laughs again.

Narrowing my eyes, I mock-scowl at him, but I can't hold it for long, smiling and laughing through my nose. He looks so happy. Glancing at my leg in his hand, I shrug. "I guess my climbing skills kind of suck."

"Nah. Here." Bending down, he wraps his hand around my other thigh and hoists me up, moving forward again and pinning me to the wall. "Is this what you had in mind?"

I nod. "Mmhmm." Thankful I won't get a crick in my neck since our faces are pretty much level, I press my lips back to his. "I think I'm addicted to your mouth." The hard line of him presses into my soft flesh through my sweats, and I rock my hips against him as he thrusts forward. With his large hands molded to my ass, we soon find a rhythm that elicits frequent moans from me and _yeahs _and _ah, fucks _from him.

My hands pull at the short strands of his auburn hair as I get closer to my release, and he sucks on the skin of my throat, pushing and grinding against me. Still sensitive from my first orgasm, my second one peaks more quickly than I'm used to. My hips push and push at him, creating more pressure and friction until I explode, stifling my loud moan in the collar of his plaid shirt.

"Fuck," he says, carrying me over to the bed. He lies on top of me and gives a few more hard thrusts, sending zaps of electricity through my body.

"Oh, _God_. Edward."

"I'll be right back," he rushes out, and then he's off me in a flash, high-tailing it into my bathroom.

_Shit._ I didn't clean up in there.

Propping myself up on my elbows, I do my best to catch my breath. My mouth is horribly dry from breathing through it so hard, so I run to the kitchen and fill two glasses with water, guzzling and refilling one.

Edward emerges from the bathroom just as I walk back into my room, and I stop short at the sight of him. He's taken his plaid button-down off and is left in only a short-sleeved, white t-shirt. And dear _God_, the muscles. I could tell he was well-built, but seeing his arms in the flesh makes my mouth water and hang open. I can also see his sculpted chest and abs pretty clearly through the thin white material, and I'm having a very hard time believing this is the same skinny guy I knew in high school.

When he notices me, he reaches a hand out for one of the water glasses, and I snap my mouth shut and hand it over, noticing a tattoo running the length of the inside of his forearm—a quote or passage of some sort. Glancing quickly at his other arm, I notice more words there in elegant black script, but I can't make them out.

"Thanks," he says after taking a big gulp. "I didn't wanna… uh… y'know." He gestures to the front of his jeans, pulling my gaze there immediately. I lick my lips, and he groans. "Jesus, woman. Give me a little time." He laughs. "You're messy, by the way."

Ducking my head, I sip my water as my cheeks heat up. "Yeah, well. I don't usually have a lot of free time between work and school. Picking everything up seems less important when I rarely have anyone in my space."

"Well, that answers that question," he says after finishing off his glass. "I was sure as hell hoping you were single, considering…"

My laugh is incredulous. "Wow. Well, I guess I should ask you the same." I just assumed, but if he's not, I'm going to have to kick him out, and I _really_ don't want to do that.

Edward's hand palms the back of his neck, and a nervous tingle rushes down mine. "I do have a girl in my life." He looks up at me and winks, almost alleviating my fear. "She's blonde, with brown eyes almost as pretty as yours, about as loyal as they come, and her favorite treat is peanut butter." He smiles at me as I raise an eyebrow. "I rescued her from a shelter when she was on her last day before they were gonna put her down."

My scrutinizing look melts into one of awe and, well… _awwww. _"That's so sweet, Edward. She must be so grateful to you." My gaze drops to my feet. "That probably sounds silly, but my dad had a couple of shelter dogs, and they were so awesome. They really seemed thankful for the life he gave them."

His smile is sweet and warms me from the inside out. "No. It doesn't sound silly at all. That's exactly how she is. She's an amazing dog."

Looking back up at him, I smile. "What's her name?"

"Bree." Edward sets his empty glass down and sits on the end of my bed. He looks good there. I could just push him back and… "What are you in school for?"

Sitting down beside him, I pull my knees up and rest my chin on them. It's the only way I'm going to be able to resist straddling him and doing more dirty things to him. "I'm getting my master's in chemistry."

"Wow." His eyes cut to me. "That's… incredible, Bella. I always knew you were smart, but… wow."

My cheeks heat at his compliment. I guess he would know I was my class's salutatorian. "What about you? What did you do after graduation?"

A dark look passes over his face. "I enlisted."

"You… _Oh._" I hug my knees tighter. "Which branch?"

"Army."

I guess that explains the muscles. Clearing my throat, I ask, "Were you deployed?"

He nods, looking down at his hands. "Yeah. Twice to Afghanistan for year-long deployments. Got injured by a roadside bomb. Punctured my right lung," he says, gesturing to what must be a scar under his shirt, "and ended up with some nerve damage to boot."

"Oh, shit, Edward. I'm so sorry."

He shrugs. "I made it out alive. Thankful for that."

Nodding, I move to place my hand on the back of his neck, sliding it over his broad shoulder, making my head rest against him. He rests his head on top of mine, and I murmur, "I'm thankful for that, too."

We stay like that for several minutes, neither of us speaking, each lost in our own thoughts. It's hard to imagine the boy I knew from high school having to shoot at people. Although I didn't know him well, I always thought he seemed so sweet—quiet and pretty shy. Not that that means he couldn't be a soldier. It's just hard to wrap my head around.

My hand squeezes his shoulder. "Did you always want to join the army?"

His short, derisive laugh surprises me, and he shakes his head. "Not exactly."

My eyebrows furrow. "Then, wh—"

Edward heaves a long sigh. "Look, do you mind if we don't talk about this? It's depressing, and I just want to have fun with you today."

"Oh, um." My hand falls away from him, and I sit up straight. "Sure. I'm sorry. I've always been pretty inquisitive, I guess." While that's true, it's really that I just want to know everything about him. The saying, 'still waters run deep,' comes to mind regarding Edward. I can tell there's a lot there to uncover. And I find myself wanting to be the one to do it. "How about a movie?"

He nods, eyes on his hands in his lap.

Moving to my DVD shelves, I run my finger along the cases until I find the one I want. Holding it up, I ask, "_Indian Summer_?"

Relief relaxes my body as Edward's eyes shoot up, and he grins. "Perfect."

* * *

**Thank you so much for reading! xoxo**

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	5. Chemical

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**SM owns all things Twilight. Everything else is mine, including any mistakes.**

* * *

**Chapter 5 - Chemical**

Sighing, I rest my back against Edward's chest as he leans against my headboard. "This movie makes me miss summer camp so much. Did you ever go?"

"Ha. No."

He makes it sound like such a preposterous question, which I don't understand. "Why not?"

"You _are_… What's the word you used? Inquisitive?"

I playfully slap the arm around my waist. "Okay, so maybe I'm just nosy."

He squeezes me. "It's okay. I'd just rather talk about you."

It's dark in my room, only weak gray light filtering in through the blinds. In the low light cast by the TV, I look down at the forearm resting against me. "May I?" I ask, turning it so I can read the tattoo.

"I have a better idea," Edward says, shifting me forward and getting out from behind me. He turns me to face him and kisses my pout as he crawls over me with determined eyes, making me lie flat underneath him. "You've seen this movie before, right?"

My nod is slow, and he leans down to kiss me again. It's slow, too—leisurely. He takes his time sucking my bottom lip into his mouth and releasing it, scraping his teeth across it lightly. Surrendering with a shaky whimper, I open my legs to him, and he settles in, grinding down on me once, nice and slow.

I want to look at him, at the deep green of his eyes, the sharp angles of his face, but I can't keep my eyes open. Everything feels way too good. "Are you trying to distract me from asking you more questions?" I ask, my voice already embarrassingly breathy.

"That depends. Is it working?" His lips graze the skin of my neck as he speaks.

He ruts against me hard, and I moan out a _yes_.

"I need to taste you," he whispers into my ear.

"Oh, God." I cover my face with my hands as Edward moves down and begins to push my shirt up, laying light kisses on my stomach. My brain is telling me I should stop this. We've known each other a long time, but we don't _truly_ know each other. I'm not sure how to _get_ to know him, though, if he doesn't actually want to talk about himself.

His tongue flicks at my belly button, and my stomach contracts with a shudder.

"Arms up," he says.

Confused, I move my hands to see him gripping the hem of my t-shirt. "Oh." I comply with his quiet demand, and my shirt is gone, my brain obviously overruled by lust for this beautiful, rugged man. My bra clasp is conveniently in the front, and Edward wastes no time exposing my breasts to him, his mouth latching on to one of them almost immediately. The weight of his torso presses me into the mattress, and I run my hands over his broad shoulders as he sucks and licks one nipple, tugging on the other one with his fingers, making me arch up into him with a groan.

"That's it," he murmurs against my skin. "Don't think. Just feel." He follows that up with a lick straight up between my breasts, moving up to kiss my lips and thrust against me again. "Feel what you do to me."

Fuck, he's _so_ hard.

Moving against me several more times, he sucks at my neck, specifically the skin just behind my ear. I press my hips up into him on every thrust, but he doesn't linger there for long. Before I realize what's happening, he's traveled back down my body and pulled my pants down and off.

"You okay?" he asks with his fingers hooked around the sides of my panties.

Propping myself up on my elbows, I look down at him. Edward lifts one eyebrow and smirks at me, licking his lips and letting his tongue linger on the plumper bottom one. I let my teeth sink into mine and nod, my breath speeding in anticipation as he watches the slow slide of my underwear down my legs. Dropping them onto the floor, he brings his eyes back to mine, and they pierce right through me. The physical reaction my body experiences every time our eyes connect shocks me. It's downright chemical. Visceral. Powerful.

I can't help but wonder if he feels it too.

Dropping back down to lie flat, I release a heavy breath as Edward's large hands come down on my thighs, sliding up and wrapping around my hips. He moves me right where he wants me and then brings his hands back down, pushing them between my thighs and spreading me open for him.

There's no slow lick up my center, no teasing flicks of his tongue, no kitten licks like I'm used to that do almost nothing for me. He _devours_ me like he's starving, and I'm his last meal. My hips buck at his face, and I don't know how he stays latched on to me the way he does, sucking and groaning. My body has never been worked over like this. It's on the verge of pain, but it's _so._ Very. Good.

Yanking at his hair, I smash my lips together to contain the screams trying to force their way out. Instead, strangled whimpers escape as my thighs clamp down on his head, my heels pressing into his shoulder blades.

When Edward completely stills and takes his mouth off of me, I look down at him, panting and a little pissed off that he's stopped. Green eyes full of mischief burn into mine, his smirk smug and cocky as all hell. If I'm being honest, it's warranted right now. Thirty seconds in, and I was already about to come. Still breathing heavily, I wait for his words as his lips part.

His fingers crawl up the insides of my thighs, which are still up around his head. "Keep these legs spread wide for me, Bella."

_Fuck. Me. _My gaze goes to the ceiling. I can't look at his raised eyebrow and messy hair, his full lips shiny with my arousal. I'll combust. And I need him to keep going. I _need_ him. So I drop my legs to the mattress and ignore his dark chuckle.

One warm hand splays out across my lower abdomen as his mouth comes back down on me. He doesn't build me back up to the edge slowly. I am right back where I was a moment ago, writhing and trying like hell to keep myself quiet. My thighs twitch and quiver with the effort to stay open for him.

Edward's beard is rough against my skin, but somehow it only adds to the intense pleasure. He moans against my flesh as he slides two long fingers into me and curls them toward my G-spot, at the same time pressing down with that hand on my belly. Shaking and babbling incoherently, I fall spectacularly over the edge into orgasmic bliss. Something like, "Ohmy_god_holyfuckshitgoddamnthat's_yes_holy_shit_fuck," spews out of my mouth before my body goes slack.

More sated than I've ever been in my life, I lie there and try to regulate my breathing, my eyes closed and my brain not even registering the fact that I should probably be embarrassed, all spread open and naked right now. I'm too busy enjoying the aftershocks rolling through me.

"Mm, fuck, that was sexy." Edward's voice is gravelly, and I glance down to see him staring hungrily at me, as if he didn't just consume me completely.

"God, I'm sorry. I'm useless right now." I try to lift an arm, and it flops lazily back to the bed.

He laughs softly. "Don't be sorry."

"Thank you," I breathe out. "For _so_ many things." Edward laughs again. Probably because I'm still panting a little. I feel like I just ran a 5k. Not that I've ever done that. I probably should. They're usually for charity. Oh, my God, brain. Shut up. Gorgeous man still between our legs. "I think you've rendered me stupid."

I still haven't really moved, so Edward scoots up to lie beside me, chuckling and leaning on his elbow. "Not possible." Beginning at the dip between my collarbones, he traces one finger down the middle of my body, through the light sheen of sweat that covers me. The movement helps me catch a couple words on his forearm: struggle and strength, and there's a small star at each end of the script.

Turning my head, I realize I can make out some of the other one as well with the way he's got his arm propped up. The small angel wings I catch sight of make it fairly obvious why he might not want to talk about that one in particular.

My eyes dip down to the very prominent bulge in his jeans and then shoot up to his intense green ones. Rolling toward him, I grip the back of his neck and crash my lips against his. Tasting myself on his tongue turns me on, and I moan into his mouth as his hand travels down my back, pressing me into him. Pushing him to his back, I give him what I hope is a sexy smile and start moving down his torso, lifting his shirt so I can appreciate the ridges and planes of his abs.

Edward's already given me three amazing orgasms today, and I want nothing more than to reciprocate, so I go for the top button on his jeans.

"As much as I _know_ I would enjoy whatever you have planned," he says, covering my hand, "I gotta stop you."

"But you're so hard," I whisper.

He twitches under my hand and groans. "I'm aware," he replies with a grunt as my hand presses into him a little harder. "But I need a shower. Worked hard this morning." He winks at me.

My blush is hot and spreads across my face quickly. "Oh." My gaze automatically drops, which makes it go right to the hard line of his dick, and my tongue sweeps over my bottom lip. "I just need to…" I look up to see his chest heaving as he watches me closely. Working the first button through its hole, I keep my eyes on his face, looking for signs of protest.

Finding nothing but want and anticipation in the way he stares at my hands and licks his lips, I push the second button through. He twitches again as I open the remaining three, and I run my hand over him through his underwear.

"You really don't have to, Bella," he says, panting as I squeeze him lightly through the fabric.

"Yeah… I really do." Smirking at him, I tug his jeans off, followed by his black boxer briefs, which he could easily model for a living. I reach over to my nightstand and pump a little warm vanilla sugar-scented lotion into my hand.

"Jesus, is that why you smell so fucking good?"

Smiling at him, I laugh through my nose and shrug. Edward lets out a long groan when I wrap my lotioned hand around him and slide it up and down his impressive length a few times. "Good?" He nods, growing impossibly harder in my hand, and it's taking all my willpower not to straddle him and take him inside me.

Continuing to pump him, I stretch out beside him and bring my lips to his. He grunts and growls into my mouth as my movements speed up, and I apply pressure around the sensitive head on every upstroke. Edward's hips thrust up into my hand, and the arm underneath me clamps around me, his hand grabbing a handful of my naked ass and squeezing. My hips undulate against him as he presses me hard against his side. This intense sexual need I seem to have for him is overwhelming. I need to see him reach his peak. I need to see what his face looks like when he comes.

I'm _craving_ it.

Sweat beads on his forehead, and his eyes clench shut. He's close. I begin twisting my hand and squeezing ever so slightly harder around him. Another sexy grunt leaves his mouth as his fingertips dig into the flesh of my ass. The pressure on my clit against his hip sends me into yet another orgasm. Our simultaneous moans mingle together, and I keep my eyes on his face during the last few erratic thrusts of his hips before he releases hot streams onto my hand and his belly.

Edward's clenched jaw slowly relaxes, and his Adam's apple bobs on a hard swallow before he licks his dry lips. "Fuck," he breathes out. His eyes stay closed as his free hand flops onto his chest, the other one releasing its firm hold on me.

"Yeah," I agree on an exhale. As I lie there beside him, it occurs to me, not for the first time today, that we should be talking about what's happening between us. It's certainly not like me to just hole up in my room and get down and dirty with a man all day—especially one I'm not exclusively dating. But I can't seem to get the words I need to come out of my mouth to ask him what this is. I know I want to see him again after today, and I assume he'll want to see me again with the way he's talked about wanting me for so long. What I know of him tells me he's a good person, but not explicitly knowing his intentions scares me a little. Why can't I just come out and ask him?

Not wanting to burst the bubble just yet, in case he says what I don't want to hear, I push it aside again and hope the conversation will happen naturally at some point.

Leaving him to catch his breath, I go into my bathroom and wash my hands, wetting a towel for him. "Did you want to use my shower?" I ask as he wipes his stomach off.

"Actually, I'm pretty beat. How does a nap sound?"

Feeling thoroughly relaxed from all of our activities and never one to turn down the leisure of taking a nap, I tell him it sounds perfect.

Edward tugs his boxer briefs back on but leaves his jeans on the floor. "Here." He grasps his t-shirt at the back of his neck and pulls it off, fitting it over my head for me.

Smiling softly to myself, I push my arms through the giant sleeves and tug it down over my thighs.

"Looks good on you." His grin makes my cheeks heat, but not out of embarrassment. He's just seen me completely naked, after all. It's just that wearing his t-shirt gives me all the girly romantic feelings, and maybe it's silly, but it feels like he might want to see me in his clothes all the time.

Spotting another tattoo on his upper arm that was previously covered by his sleeve, I snap out of my thoughts and reach up to turn him so I can see it better.

I raise my eyebrows at him. "What is _this_?"

"Oh," he says, eyes widening and quickly covering the top of his arm with his huge hand.

"Nuh-uh." I try to pry his fingers off the pin-up girl inked onto his arm, but it's no use. I drop my arms with a huff. "Oh, come on. I already saw it."

"Fine," he grumbles, dropping his hand. "In my defense, I was drunk. And it was a camaraderie thing, okay?"

"A camaraderie thing?"

"Well, all the guys on my squad got one."

"She kind of…" I squint my eyes and tilt my head. "...looks like me." My eyes go wide, focusing back on his face as my eyebrows climb my forehead.

Edward heaves a big sigh. "Look, it's not… _you_... exactly. But ever since high school and my crush on you, I've realized I'm more attracted to your… type. I guess. I told the guy I wanted her to have dark eyes and dark hair." His gaze drops to my mouth. "Plump lips." He looks me in the eye then and drags his thumb heavily across my bottom lip, pushing the flesh to the side. My breath gusts over his hand, and I'm caught in his gaze, a helpless bug in his web. "Is that creepy?"

The question pulls me out of my daze, and I cock my head to the side, pursing my lips. "Uh… maybe. A little." I shrug. "But I think I'm cool with it. And besides… she's pretty freakin' hot."

Edward laughs, but I'm not kidding. She has on the skimpiest army fatigues known to man and is, of course, in a seductive pose, her tits and ass on display nicely.

He palms the back of his neck. "Yeah, well, our platoon leader didn't think so. He said they were offensive to the female soldiers." He shrugs. "But they were covered, so it's not like they saw them."

Nodding, I trace over the pin-up's legs, watching goosebumps pop up on Edward's skin. "Well, he may have had a point. You might not have appreciated seeing a fellow soldier with a tattoo of a muscled-up guy in a camouflage speedo or something." I giggle at the image, and he groans, dragging a hand down his face.

"Okay, time for sleep."

After turning the TV off, we settle in, and he lets me snuggle close to him and tuck my freezing feet between his calves. I get a soft, bristly kiss on my forehead, and that's the last thing I remember before drifting off, more relaxed than I can ever remember being.

* * *

I love taking naps when I can squeeze one in, but I'm always disoriented when I first wake up. Starfishing out across my bed, I grumble to myself about how much I don't want to get up and go to work. But as my mind wakes up and the memories of the day flood in, I quickly catch up to the situation. My eyes dart around the room, glancing up at each of my arms spread wide, making it clear that there's no one else in the bed with me.

Bolting upright, I scan the room, looking for signs that Edward's still here. His jeans, which were rumpled on the floor, are gone. Rushing into the bathroom, I check the hook where he'd hung his plaid shirt.

Gone.

"No, no, no, no, no," I mutter to myself, stepping back into my room. I spot a folded piece of white paper on my nightstand, and my heart leaps with hope.

_B,_

_Got a text from my boss and have to go. I didn't want to wake you. You're so damn beautiful, Bella. Perfect._

_Thank you for breakfast and for what has been, without a doubt, the best day of my life. _

_I'll never forget it._

_~E_

Coming to the bottom of the note, I flip it over and back. Twice. My heart loses any buoyancy it had, dropping like a dead weight as I realize he left me no way to contact him.

Edward doesn't want to see me again.

Feeling used and hurt, I clutch at his t-shirt, which is still hanging off my frame, swallowing me up in him. Anger burns hot through my limbs, and I wrench it off of me, throwing it across the room and crawling back into bed naked.

I burrow under the covers and try to find my dignity there as a few tears leak out of my eyes. But the vivid memories of his touch don't feel wrong like I think they should. I'd never felt more alive in my whole life than I did when he was touching me.

Screw this shit. Screw feeling sorry for myself and doing nothing but wallow. If he truly doesn't want to see me again, he's going to have to say those words to my face, because I find it awfully hard to believe he didn't feel what I felt.

Up and out of bed again before I can think twice about it, I throw Edward's t-shirt back on and fling open my door, taking determined steps toward the kitchen.

Angela is standing next to the stove in flannel pajamas, stirring a pot of soup. I walk right up to her and let her wide brown eyes take in my appearance, which is obviously disheveled, to say the least. "You're still here? What happened?" Her eyebrows furrow. "Are you all right? Whose shirt is that?"

"Angela! Focus." I point to my eyes. "I need your help."

"Okay," she says, her face serious.

"Okay," I breathe out. "First thing's first. Do we have a phone book?"

* * *

**Hopefully this longer (relatively speaking) chapter made up a little bit for the wait. Thank you so much for reading! xoxo**


	6. Lobotomy

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* * *

**Previously:** "Angela! Focus." I point to my eyes. "I need your help."

"Okay," she says, her face serious.

"Okay," I breathe out. "First thing's first. Do we have a phone book?"

* * *

**Chapter 6 - Lobotomy**

_"Uh… no," Angela had said in response to my request for a phone book. "We always recycle them." _

_"Well, _shit_."_

_"Is your laptop broken or something? Just look whatever it is up online."_

_"Oh! Dur." I'd kissed her on the cheek, stunning her, before rushing back to my room, my laptop open and whirring to life seconds later. _

_I couldn't even remember the last time I'd had to look up someone's phone number. I've always just had a person's cell number if I needed to contact them. But after checking the white pages and any other site I could think of that might list personal phone numbers, I'd come up empty._

_Unlisted._

_Of course. _

_I'd flopped back on my bed, defeated._

Now, thirty minutes and a shower later, I'm back online with newfound determination, looking to see who a snow plow operator would work for. It looks like the Missouri Department of Transportation is my best bet.

"Mo-DOT, Kansas City. Alice speaking."

"Um. Hi. How, uh…" Shit, I hate it when I don't figure out what I want to say before the call connects. "Sorry. Is there a way to reach one of your snow plow drivers?"

She pops her gum. "I can take a message or transfer you to dispatch. They'll most likely just take a message, same as me, though."

Puffing out my cheeks, I blow out a breath. "Okay. I'll leave a message, I guess." After giving her my contact information, I can do nothing but wait. I'm not holding out much hope, though, if I can't talk to him directly. If he purposely didn't leave me his number, there's no reason to think he'll return my call.

Snatching up his note from beside me, I read back over it again, just to see if I misinterpreted it somehow. But the "_I'll never forget it_" part sends a pretty fucking clear message if you ask me. It's something you say after you've done something once-in-a-lifetime, like skydiving or meeting your celebrity crush, not something you're planning to do again later that day or even sometime in the near future.

Not that I'd compare spending the day with me to skydiving or meeting a celebrity crush, but for me, it was without a doubt just as exhilarating as I imagine those events would be.

Apparently not so much for him.

"Ugh. _Asshole_." I slam my laptop closed and push it off my legs, haphazardly tossing his fuck-and-duck note or whatever the hell it is onto my nightstand where I originally found it. My day off work that seemed to stretch gloriously before me now holds nothing but trying to pass the time, waiting for something that may never come.

Pissed off doesn't even begin to cover how I'm feeling. Hurt, disbelief, anger, loneliness—they all jumble together inside me and create the perfect storm for an utterly shit-tastic mood to settle over me.

The loneliness might be the worst of them all. I haven't minded not having a boyfriend for the last couple years, being so busy with work and school. I have some amazing friends, and I just haven't let being single really bother me. The way Edward stormed right into my life and then left just as abruptly, though, seems to have brought the feeling front and center.

"_Tall, sexy jerk._"

With a resigned sigh, I open my laptop again and start going over my notes for the exam I have on Friday, wondering how on Earth I could have misread Edward so entirely.

* * *

As the hours and then days tick by, I slowly let the sliver of hope that had been glimmering inside me die. He didn't come back that day, and he hasn't called or texted.

Nothing.

There's been no snow to plow either.

Stupid, inconsistent mid-west weather.

My mind is relentless as it replays every moment Edward and I spent together on a seemingly endless loop—the way his eyes crinkled in the corners when he laughed, the way his soft lips felt against mine, surrounded by bristly whiskers, the way he touched me like I was his most prized possession.

"_Dammit_."

"That's the third time you've over-steamed the milk this morning, B. You okay?" My busybody co-worker, Maggie, looks at me with concerned eyes, which I appreciate. Sort of. But there's no way in hell I'm talking about this. Especially not with her. She's nice, but she can't keep her mouth shut to save her life, and I don't need everyone and their brother knowing my business.

"Yeah," I mumble. "Sorry." After dumping the milk, I refill the small metal pitcher and start steaming again.

The scowl on my face feels permanent.

My tips are dwindling.

I need a lobotomy.

I want Edward Masen and the few incredible hours I spent with him out of my head. Right. The fuck. Now.

* * *

On Friday, I get my head in the game and do well on my exam. I will not let some guy, no matter how amazing I thought he was, interfere with my education. I have worked too damn hard to get where I am.

When my alarm goes off at 5AM on Saturday, I curse it like usual and trudge to the shower, so ready for this God-forsaken week to be over.

The snow on the front step that's appeared overnight mocks me, and I sneer at it. I've been doing my best to forget about Edward, and now I'm convinced this winter's determined to fuck me over even though this is the first snow we've had since that fateful day.

"Mother-effing stupid-ass snow." I kick at it like a toddler and almost fall on my ass.

The rev of the truck engine reaches my ears as soon as I finish locking up, sending my heart into overdrive.

I want it to be him.

_No, I don't._

I do.

_I don't._

Do.

_Don't._

My car's not in the street this time, and the decidedly _not_ red plow truck drives right on by. The only mountain of snow I have to contend with is the one at the end of my driveway. Huffing and puffing, I shovel as much as I need to to get my car out, wishing I was inside making breakfast while someone else—read: a certain big burly man—did this for me. And then I curse myself for being weak.

I will not let a man do this to me. I'm not going to be that girl, the one who sits around and pines for someone who doesn't want her.

But each morning I wake up to snow on the ground, my heart races a bit at the prospect of Edward being the one to drive up my street, pushing the white powder aside. And then I remember how he pushed _me_ aside, and each morning I don't see his truck, the walls around my heart thicken just a little bit more.

* * *

A month goes by. Valentine's Day kicks me right in the teeth this year, and I'm not strong enough to not pull out the note I saved from high school. The one I recently found out came from Edward.

_If you were mine, I'd tell you every single day how beautiful you are, inside and out. Happy Valentine's Day, Bella._

I pretend the tears are because of the sappy movie I have on the TV that I'm not actually watching, and when my roommates leave for their dates, I plaster on my best fake smile and tell them to have an amazing time.

The following morning, Jess and Angela bring me breakfast in bed, complete with a mimosa and strawberry, chocolate chip pancakes.

They give me the requisite best-friend phrases, like, "He doesn't deserve you," and, "It's his loss," because they know my puffy eyes mean I'm still thinking about him.

Thinking's not the same as pining.

It's _not_.

That night, they take me out to our favorite dive bar, and for just a little while, I forget about the quiet, shy boy from high school, who'd written me the most meaningful note I've ever received. The boy who turned into a confident, sexy man, who burned me with his touch and wrote me another note that, much like the first, left me with nothing but questions.

* * *

Two days later, there's more _fucking_ snow on the ground, and I'm sick to death of this winter. "Go home, February. You're drunk," I mutter to myself.

The plow hasn't been down our street, and my heart rate picks up just like it does every time I see the undisturbed snow resting on the asphalt. I hurry as much as I'm able through the slush to my car and start the engine, getting back out to scrape as much snow and ice off as I can, wanting to leave as quickly as possible.

I'm not quite fast enough, though, because the tell-tale rumble reaches my ears.

"It's not him. It's not him. It's not him."

But the prickling of my skin beneath my layers of warm clothing suggests otherwise.

Looking up from my task, I see red. Literally and figuratively. It's his red truck, the one with the passenger's side mirror missing. Even without that, I'd know. I can feel his eyes on me.

The sun isn't up yet, and I can't quite see his eyes in the dim light cast by the street lamps. But I can see that his face is angled toward me as he rolls by at an agonizingly slow pace, the blade of his plow scraping along the asphalt, ruining the perfect white blanket of snow.

My anger boils over, and much like that day over a month ago, the ice scraper in my hand goes flying before I can think better of it. Only this time, I don't want to miss.

But of course I _do_.

No new dings added to his truck, no reason for him to stop and get out.

It pisses me off that much more, and I drop my face into my gloved hands, feeling pathetic and trying to will the tears away that threaten to spill.

I'm not sure how long I stand there, freezing my ass off, but it's obvious he's gone by the silence that's settled around me once again.

I give myself an internal pep talk before lifting my face out of my hands and taking a deep breath of crisp air.

Turning, the steam from my heavy breath clouds my vision for a second. But then I see him.

Edward's standing at the end of my driveway, clutching my makeshift missile once again, except this time, there's no anger on his face. Only trepidation and anxiety.

Cocking my head at him, I consider what he has to be anxious about. If he thinks I might knee him in the balls, well… He might be right.

Edward clears his throat and takes two small steps forward, stretching his arm out toward me like he did that day, only we're still a good fifteen feet apart. "I believe this belongs to you."

* * *

**I'll do my absolute best not to leave you hanging here too long. Thank you so much for reading! xoxo**


	7. Falling

**You guys continue to rock my world with your awesome reviews, and I will never be able to thank you enough. Cupcakes and bewb gropes all around!**

**Mega-thanks to Twilly and Sophiacorgi for helping me so much with this chapter. I originally wrote an EPOV chapter, but we decided it wasn't right for the story at this point, so it was back to the drawing board. I plan to post it as an outtake later on, though.**

**SM owns all things Twilight. Everything else is mine, including any mistakes.**

**Chapter 6 was posted just a couple days ago, so if you haven't read it, make sure to before this one. :)**

* * *

**Chapter 7 - Falling**

"I believe this belongs to you."

_Blink._

_Inhale._

_Exhale._

_Blink._

My lips part in preparation to speak, but I can't think of a single thing to say. Instead, I stare, and my lungs feel as though they're going to burst from how heavily I'm breathing. Anger crawls all over my body, fiery and intense. There's also that thin, annoying layer of desire underneath it, and that just ticks me off even more.

Standing there, facing him, I realize I had finally resigned myself to the fact that I wouldn't see him again. I try again to blink the illusion away, but there he remains, steam billowing from his mouth, arm outstretched, his truck parked at the curb.

Finally, I snap my mouth shut and spit out, "Keep it," through gritted teeth before sliding into my car. I feel my resolve weaken a tiny bit when I see the hurt cross his beautiful face through my rearview mirror. "Keep it together, Swan." I make quick work of my seatbelt and then throw the car into reverse.

Expecting him to get out of the way upon seeing the reverse lights, I start easing back. But he's still there. In that same damn spot, frozen like a statue. For a split-second, I wonder if he actually did freeze, and then I shake my head at myself and roll my window down about halfway to yell, "_Move._"

"_No_," he shouts back, decidedly not frozen. "Not until you talk to me."

The nerve… "Why _should_ I?" My brain briefly entertains the thought of running him over, but since I'm not crazy, the thought disappears the same way most fleeting, irrational thoughts do, and I keep my foot planted firmly on the brake pedal.

"Because I'm sorry!"

It's loud and heartfelt, but… "Not good enough. Now, _move_."

I ease back some more, pressing the brake again, waiting for him to take the hint. But before he can get out of the way, the tires slip on the incline of the driveway, and I hear a grunt through my still-open window.

"No, no, no, no, no." I did NOT just hit Edward Masen with my car. Skidding to a stop, I pray I haven't seriously injured him. No matter how big of an asshole he is, my goal was not to maim him.

A knee to the balls was as far as I would've taken it. Highly painful but temporary.

The guilt hits me hard because of my errant thought of running him over, but I didn't feel the tires actually run over anything, so it can't be that bad. Right?

Once I get free of my seatbelt and get out, though, my heart gives a forceful thump against my ribs. He's sprawled out in the snow like he's about to make a snow angel on my driveway.

"Shit, Edward. Are you all right?"

"I can't believe you hit me," he mutters, unmoving.

"It was an accident." I wring my hands together. "The car slid. I'm sorry."

"I mean, I knew you'd be pissed at me," he continues, not acknowledging what I said, "but I never expected you to mow me down with your car."

Maybe he's not trying to crack a joke, but that's how it comes across to me, and I roll my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest."That is _not_ what happened. Now, are you going to tell me whether or not you're hurt? You're kind of throwing a wrench into my plan never to speak to you again."

I'm not a total bitch. I swear. He's started moving his limbs, so I know he didn't break any of those. The snow should have cushioned his head, and he lifted it up once to look at me, so I know his neck's okay. What else is there?

"I'm pretty sure you broke my ass," he all but whines.

I cock an eyebrow at him as he shimmies around a bit. The groan of pain that leaves his mouth when he tries to get up, though, makes me spring into action on instinct. Helping him to his feet puts me a whole lot closer to him than I want to be right now, and he looks down at me once he's standing. His arm rests heavily around my shoulders, and from the outside, I imagine we look every bit a couple in love. "Bella…"

At the sound of my name rolling off his tongue, I find my eyes drawn up to his face.

Fuck, he's pretty.

Locking that shit down and turning away from his pleading eyes, I help him walk to my car. "Not now. Let's get you to the hospital, just in case."

He tries to sit in the front seat, but it's too painful, so he does his best to lie down in the back. He's folded up like a lawn chair, but he says it's better than sitting on his "busted ass".

"Is there anyone you want me to call to meet you there? Your parents?"

"Uh, no. No parents. Here." Edward fishes his cell phone out of his jeans and hands it to me between the front seats. "Can you call Jasper please?"

"Sure."

My anger spikes again upon looking at his phone in my hand. I'd briefly entertained the thought that he didn't own a phone and therefore couldn't leave a number. Irrational, I know, but I was grasping at straws at that point. The evidence that he does, in fact, have a phone stares back at me from the palm of my hand, and I open my mouth to say something. But now isn't the time.

Scrolling through his contacts, I come to Jasper and hit send.

"Wait. Your hands aren't broken. Here." I thrust the phone back at him, not wanting to talk to his friend and possibly entrench myself any more into his life.

"Right," he mutters. A muffled voice comes through the speaker. "Hey, man," Edward responds. "Yeah. I had an accident. No, the truck's fine. I, uh… fell." This makes me look back at him, and he stares right into my eyes. I squeeze mine shut against the forest green of his before shifting the car into reverse. "I was at Bella's," he says quietly through gritted teeth. "Stop laughing. Asshole. No. Yeah, she's driving me. Okay. Thanks."

Evidently this Jasper person knows who I am. I'm not sure what to make of that.

At the hospital, I wait in stony silence for a freaking eternity for Edward to be seen by someone. Since he isn't bleeding, he's not high priority. He tries to catch my eye and sometimes speak to me, but I'm just not ready. I'm not sure if or when I _will_ be, but it's most definitely not right here and now, in the waiting room of the ER. My guilt keeps my butt planted firmly next to him, though. He's found a bench to lie down on and fiddles with his phone for the most part. His coat cushions his head, and his navy blue henley molds to his ripped body in the most irritating way.

Catching sight of a few texts between him and someone named Alice makes my chest tight, but he must notice something cross my face because he quickly tells me it's Jasper's wife.

A memory floats to the surface, and before I can catch the words, they tumble out of my mouth. "Does she work for Mo-DOT?"

Edward's face flushes red, and I know he knows what I'm wondering. "Yes."

"I see."

It helped a miniscule amount to think all along that maybe he didn't get my message. Maybe he didn't think I tried to contact him. Like, the size of an atom small, but it was still there in the back of my mind.

Now that I know he got it and still ignored me, it's taking all my restraint not to knock him off the bench.

Sighing, I figure I've done enough damage and choose instead to cross my arms and angle myself away from him.

Edward clears his throat. "Jasper's on his way now. Sorry. He was on a route because one of the guys called in sick."

"Okay."

"Edward?" a nurse in hot pink scrubs calls out.

For the first time in a while, I'm thanking God it's winter. At least Edward can't touch my bare skin as I help him up and over to the double doors. I'm positive I couldn't handle that right now.

"Can you make it from here?" I ask him at the threshold.

"You're leaving?"

"I'm…" I blow out a breath. His eyes plead with me to stay. This guy's been stationed in Afghanistan, and he's afraid of hospitals? "I guess I can stay until your friend gets here."

"Thank you."

Nodding, I keep letting him lean on me a bit as he walks stiffly down the corridor.

We end up in a curtained-off room, and he has to lie on his side, choosing to face me while the nurse checks him over and takes his vitals.

Where the motherfuck is this Jasper dude?

"Were you heading to work?" Edward asks once the nurse leaves.

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine." It's not really. I need the money. "I found someone to cover me."

Silence descends over us again, but he won't look away from me.

My mind plays flashes of those eyes burning into mine as he made my body vibrate with pleasure. "Can you please stop that?"

"I'm sorry, Bella."

I know he means for a lot more than just looking at me, but he's hurt me too much.

"Still not enough."

"I know. I—"

"Mr. Masen?" the doctor interrupts, moving the curtain aside. I'm both relieved and have the urge to push him back out and find out what Edward was about to say. "How are we feeling?"

"Not great," Edward mumbles, and cold guilt washes over me again, making my skin prickle.

"Mr. Masen?" a nurse echoes a second later. "There's a Jasper Whitlock here. Says he's your life partner?"

Edward coughs to stifle a laugh and asks her to send him back.

"I should go."

"Please stay."

I eye him warily, wanting to hear what he has to say for himself, but at the same time, wanting to get the hell away from him and protect my wounded heart. He chips away at my resolve every time his deep green eyes connect with mine.

"Where are you having pain, Mr. Masen?"

Edward keeps his intense gaze on me until I ease back into the chair, the vulnerability I see there making my decision for me. He relaxes his shoulders and answers the doctor with a grimace. "Mostly in my ass."

"Ah. And I see that you fell backwards. Did you land in a sitting position?"

"Yes."

"Okay. And the pain is at a 7?"

"Yes."

"Okay, Mr. Masen. I'm going to check your neurological responses, and then I'm going to give you something for the pain and to relax you a bit. I'll need to do a rectal exam to assess the extent of the damage to your coccyx."

Curling both lips over my teeth, I press them together to keep from laughing at the way Edward's eyes widen and bulge out.

I know I shouldn't. He's in pain. But there's a part of me that feels like he deserves some pain and humiliation after what he's put me through.

Jasper also shows up at that exact moment and isn't as successful at containing his laughter.

"You can't just X-ray it?" Edward asks in a panic.

"I'm afraid it's not as accurate for this particular type of injury."

"Fuck," Edward mutters.

The doctor glances at Jasper, and I have to fight off another giggle. Edward's _life partner_ can't stop his guffaws, going so far as to bend at the waist and clutch his stomach. "You must be _loving_ this," he finally manages to say, looking directly at me.

He obviously knows about what happened between Edward and me, and I suddenly feel exposed and embarrassed.

Shaking it off, I decide to play along and hold up my thumb and forefinger about an inch apart, smirking at Jasper.

Edward's indignant. "It's _your_ fault I fell."

"You should've moved."

"You _hit me with your car_."

I scoff. "Barely."

"Whoa, whoa, wait," Jasper says. "You ran him over with your car?"

Okay, now the anger's back. "I _bumped_ him with my car when he wouldn't move his ass and the tires slid a little. It was a complete accident."

The doctor interrupts with a frown to perform his neurological tests on Edward, making him follow his finger with his eyes and so on. "I'll be back in a bit to check and see if the meds have kicked in."

Jasper plops down on the doctor's stool and slides over to me, sticking his hand out. "I'm Jasper, but you probably knew that."

"Bella." I shake his hand. "I'm certain you knew that."

He chuckles. "Look, I don't blame you for wanting to kill Eddie boy here." Edward clears his throat loudly and gives Jasper a hard glare. "But he's not all bad." He proceeds to make kissy faces at Edward, and I laugh despite myself.

"Alright, guys." I stand up from the chair and stretch my back. "I better run. Nice to meet you, Jasper. And… take care, Edward. I'm sorry you got hurt."

"Bella, please," Edward says. "I really need to talk to you."

Closing my eyes, I take a cleansing breath, feeling completely torn. I don't think he deserves a second chance after what he did, but my dad always said everyone deserves a second chance. My mom, rescue dogs, everyone.

"Can I talk to you outside for a second?" Jasper surprises me by asking.

"Jas," Edward warns. "Please don't make things worse."

"Don't worry, brother. I got this."

I give him a skeptical eyebrow raise but follow him out into the hallway regardless, not risking a glance back at Edward, lest I give in and snuggle up to him on the hospital bed.

"Look," he says, blue eyes serious for the first time this morning. "I know he fucked up."

"Understatement," I mutter.

"Yeah. And _he_ knows he fucked up. But he really is a good guy, Bella. He doesn't always believe he is, but he's one of the best guys I know. I don't usually get in the middle of people's business." He shakes his shaggy blond head. "My wife's the meddler. But hear the guy out. If he fucks it up again, by all means, run him down with your car again and give it a little gas this time." He winks and one corner of my mouth lifts.

He doesn't say anything else, but I must be one hell of a sucker for men and their pleading eyes because against my better judgment, I find myself pulling out an old receipt from my purse and scribbling my phone number on it. "Tell him to use that. I don't need another unexpected visit from him any time soon."

Jasper salutes me. "Got it."

It's a step. Whether it'll lead me right off a cliff and into more heartache or to a chance at something I got a brief taste of over a month ago… only time will tell.

* * *

**Thank you so much for reading! xoxo**


	8. Bandaid

**You guys give me such an amazing gift by leaving me your thoughts, and I can never thank you enough. **

**Thank you so much to Sophiacorgi and Twilly for their invaluable help!  
**

**SM owns all things Twilight. Everything else is mine, including any mistakes. (Some of you may notice I use 'lay' incorrectly in dialogue. Most people just don't say 'lie', at least not in my experience. Sorry to anyone if it makes you twitchy. ;))**

* * *

**Chapter 8 - Band-aid**

Not even halfway to work, my phone chimes with a text.

**_Thank you so much for giving me your number, Bella. ~E_**

**_Again. ~E_**

Another confirmation that he had it before and didn't use it stares me in the face. I'm not sure any excuse he has will be good enough, but since I agreed to hear him out, that's what I'll do.

Eventually.

**_Me again. Sorry. Jas said you don't want me to come by again, and I understand. He & Alice will be by to pick up my truck since I won't be able to drive for a bit anyway. ~E_**

The pang of guilt hits my stomach even harder than it did when I first backed in to him. This is messing with his livelihood.

**_Sorry. I wasn't trying to make you feel guilty. I have sick days and stuff. ~E_**

What is he, a mind-reader now?

**It's okay. ~B**

Not sure what else to say, I leave it at that in response to all four of his texts. Another red light finally turns green, and I pull in to work, hurrying inside to relieve Riley.

"I'm so sorry," I rush out, tying a purple apron around my waist. "Thank you for covering for me."

"Anything for you, B." He blows me a kiss, and I catch it, smacking my hand against my ass. "Now, is that any way to treat the guy you woke up at 5:30 this morning?"

"Oh, shush. You love my ass. You know you wanna kiss it."

"It _is_ your best… _ass_et." He winks, showing me his best dimpled grin.

Smirking, I snap a towel at him, and he tosses his apron into the small hamper in the back before gliding behind me, pinching my best asset and making me jump. "Love you," I tell him on a laugh.

"I know. Call me later." And with a pointed look, he's out the door.

Still chuckling, I jump right in and start filling the next drink order. Any other guy pinching my ass would likely get a mouthful of scathing words from me. And maybe a titty-twister, depending. But I've been friends with Riley since we were freshmen in college. I lack the necessary equipment to turn him on anyway, so even if he's flirting, it'll never go beyond that.

He'll probably die laughing and then scold me when I fill him in on what happened this morning. All I told him was that a friend had an emergency and needed help. He won't be happy about Edward showing up and my giving him my phone number again. Riley's one of the best grudge-holders I know. It may be best if I wait and hear what Edward has to say before telling Riley anything. If things go no further with Edward, I'll save myself a lot of bitch-brow-riddled lecturing.

A couple hours into my shift, a small raven-haired woman in a cute white peacoat and multi-colored scarf steps up to the counter and orders a drink. When I have it ready, I turn the cup to see the name printed there. "Alice?" I call out.

As she steps toward me to take the drink, I see something like recognition in her eyes.

"Have a nice d—"

"Bella?"

We speak at the same time, and I know this isn't a coincidence. She's _Alice, _Alice. Edward's friend and Jasper's wife.

An exasperated sigh leaves my mouth. "Did Edward send you?"

Her expression is sheepish, but there's determination in her eyes too. "Not exactly."

"What does that mean?"

Alice glances over to where Maggie is not so subtly listening in. "Do you think you could take a quick break?"

"I…"

"Please? It'll just take a sec. I swear."

"Go," Maggie says when I turn my head toward her. "We're dead right now anyway."

I give her a grateful nod and blow out a breath as I move around the counter. Alice and I take a seat across from each other at a small table in the back corner. Far away from Maggie and her curious ears.

"First," Alice says, "I want you to know I'm not here to plead Edward's case or anything like that." She wraps both hands around her paper cup. "What he did was completely shitty."

My eyebrow lifts as I incline my head. "We're in agreement there." I'm so relieved she's not here to push me. It would only make me that much more resistant.

A smile plays at the corners of Alice's lips at my wry comment, but she contains it. "Right. I just wanted you to know that I did pass along your message when you called last month. Of course, I had no idea who you were or what had happened. Not until last night. If I had, I would have kicked his ass a hell of a lot sooner." She shakes her head and takes a sip of her drink.

"Thanks, but… What do you mean, you would've kicked his ass sooner?"

Alice's crystal blue eyes go wide, and this totally put-together girl starts stammering. "Uh… I mean." Her shoulders sag. "Shit,' she whispers. "I really wish I hadn't said that."

My brows shoot up my forehead, and I question her with my eyes.

"Okay, look. I know you probably hate him right now. And don't get me wrong. I would too if he did that to me." She looks down at the lid of her coffee cup, swiping her thumb over what must be a crimson lipstick stain on the edge. "It's just that… it's so unlike him."

My eyes narrow, and a hurt expression must come over my face because she rushes to continue.

"God, no. I'm sorry. Nothing I'm saying is coming out right." Alice shakes her head, making her short hair dance around her face. "I'm not saying he's a manwhore or something and doesn't usually abandon his conquests. Far from it. I don't think he's even been with anyone in forever." She slaps a palm to her forehead. "Not that that makes it okay. God. Seriously, I should just shut up. But it's just that next to my Jas, he's the sweetest guy I know. And he's been a wreck for the last month, and none of us knew why. I finally got it out of him last night and then titty-twisted him this morning until he told me where you work."

My mouth falls open, but all I can do is blink at her.

"You're quiet," she says.

"Uh…" I push a loose lock of hair behind my ear. "You titty-twisted a guy with a broken ass?"

Alice nods. "Mmhmm. He's stubborn. He whined like a little bitch but finally caved."

"Alice?"

"Yeah?"

"I like you."

A grin spreads across her face. "Aww, really?" Her hand presses to her chest. "I like you too. I mean, I know we just met, but… Edward told me a lot about you last night, and you seem really cool. And I know it's not my place, but I'm sorry for what happened."

"Thank you. But yeah. He needs to be the one to make it right." Looking down at my hands, I shake my head. "If that's even possible."

Alice sighs. "I know at the very least, he wants to explain and apologize properly. But again, it's not my place. I only came to let you know I'd given him your phone number." After I lift an eyebrow at her, she concedes, "And okay, maybe to plead his case just a teeny bit." She holds her index finger and thumb about a millimeter apart. And at my smile and head-shake, she adds, "He needs all the help he can get. Poor guy."

I want to be mad at Alice for interfering like this and defending him, but she's just so endearing. And knowing he didn't send her to do it for him helps a little. "How bad is his injury?"

"His tailbone's fractured." I wince. "Yeah, he said some of the snow was already packed down from where he'd stepped, and of course that's where he fell. Right onto the ice underneath."

"Ouch."

She nods with a grimace. "He'll be laid up for a bit, but he'll live."

"Well…" I exhale a heavy breath. "Maybe I should just get it over with. Rip the band-aid off." Alice perks up at this. "Not knowing is always worse, right? If I just talk to him and hear what he has to say, then I can move on with all of the information."

She looks like a bobblehead, nodding frantically. I swear she'd clap if she wasn't afraid I might slap her. Alice calms herself down as best she can, still slightly vibrating in her seat. "Do you think you'll go see him? I know he wants to talk to you in person if at all possible, and since he can't drive…" She trails off with a hopeful expression.

Letting him plead his case in person, where I can see his eyes and his body and his lips seems like a spectacularly bad idea. And I'm not sure he deserves the courtesy at this point.

"He really hurt me, Alice."

Her face drops, and she nods solemnly. "I know." She fidgets for a minute as if debating whether or not she should say more. "I'm probably overstepping. Again." She rolls her eyes at herself. "But you should know that he's not been unaffected by what he did to you. He didn't just walk away and forget you, as much as I'm sure it felt that way."

Dropping my gaze to my hands, I nod at her but don't respond. That's exactly how it felt.

Since I left the hospital this morning, I'd been considering letting him stew for a while—make him really work for it. I can't deny that I do just want to _know_ already, though. It's been over a month of waiting and not knowing, and I'm sick to death of it. If I can't forgive him, then I can finally put it all behind me. And if I can… Well, I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

Still not quite decided, I raise my eyes back to Alice's pretty face. "I'll think about it. Will you give me his address? Assuming he wants me to have it."

She nods and actually does clap this time. But only twice before she reins it in. "He does. And I have to tell you what a big deal that is for him. He's kind of embarrassed by his place," she whispers behind her hand like it's top secret. "He never used to let Jas and me come over, but I finally told him to quit being such a fucking pussy." She lets out a girly giggle that almost makes her foul language seem innocent. "Now we have a spare key, which he tried very hard to get back from me last night." Her blue eyes roll. "Like _that_'ll happen."

Despite her meddling, I find I'm liking Alice more and more.

After digging around in her purse, she produces a pen and a scrap of paper, scribbling Edward's address down for me.

"Thanks, Alice. I better get back to work." I fold the paper and stick in the pocket of my jeans. "If I decide to go over there, I'll text him."

"Okay," shes says with a nod. "I put Jasper's and my numbers on there too, just in case." We both stand, and she comes in for a hug, which catches me off guard. "Sorry, sorry," she says, sensing my body stiffen. "It's just so nice to meet you."

I pat her back awkwardly. "You too, Alice."

She pulls back and beams at me before stepping around me and walking out the door.

Still processing everything that just happened, I stare after her in a daze for a moment before snapping out of it and getting back to work.

* * *

The last two days have been busy between school and work, and I haven't had much spare time to even think about the situation with Edward. He hasn't tried to contact me again, for which I'm grateful.

Although he gave me way too much space before, I'm glad he's giving it to me now.

"Okay," I mutter to myself. "Rip off the band-aid. The pain should only last a second. Right?"

_Right._

Shaking my head, I reach for my phone. It's about eight AM, and I'm off work today. My first class isn't until eleven, so I have a little time.

**Hey, are you free this morning? ~B**

His response is almost immediate.

**_Yes. ~E_**

**I'm sure Alice told you she gave me your address. Would it be okay if I came by? We could talk. ~B**

**_Yes. Absolutely. ~E_**

**Okay, I can be there in an hour. ~B**

**_Great. And thank you, Bella. ~E_**

**Sure. See you then. ~B**

Letting out a long breath, I climb out of bed and get ready.

Edward lives in an older neighborhood, dotted with small houses, some run-down and some immaculately kept up.

It's 9:03 when I get out of my car and walk carefully over the cracked paving stones that cut a path through the grass to his front steps. The shock of the door swinging open as soon as I raise my hand to knock almost makes me fall backwards.

"Whoa." Edward reaches out and wraps a hand around my wrist, righting me. "We don't need two busted asses around here." His cheeks tinge pink, and he glances at my eyes. "Not that you'd… I mean, I didn't mean… Never mind." His gaze drops, and he shakes his head.

Seeing him so unsure of himself is disarming, and it makes me feel better about being here on his turf. He'd put the ball in my court, but it still felt like he had the advantage with my coming to his house. "Were you waiting by the door?"

His sheepishness is still all over his face. "Well… yeah. I kind of had to, though. It would've taken me a couple minutes to get to the door if I'd waited until you got here to get up."

"Oh." I look away from the dark green sweater that's molded perfectly to his body. "Right. Sorry."

"Please don't apologize."

Feeling his eyes on me again, I nod, and an awkward silence descends over us.

Edward shifts back and forth on his feet. "I also had to put Bree out back. She can be a little overly friendly."

Nodding again, I suddenly remember the small paper bag in my hand. "Oh, I brought you a blueberry muffin. I thought you might be hungry, and since you can't really get around too well…" I hold it up to him. "Hopefully it still tastes okay. I got it from work yesterday. I didn't have to pay for it or anything." Oh, my God. Shut _up_, Bella.

I knew this was a bad idea. Being alone with him again is making me nervous and melting the blocks of ice that had been building around my heart since he disappeared.

Edward's long fingers pluck the bag from my hand, and he utters a quiet, "Thank you."

Another awkward moment passes before he realizes I'm still standing outside. His green eyes widen, and he takes a step back to allow me in. "Sorry. Can I take your coat?" he asks as I step past him.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I shake my head because I feel like it's my armor right now—my heart's last line of defense.

"Bella," he says, drawing my eyes to his face. His scruff is a little shorter than it was last time I saw him, like maybe he doesn't shave but just trims it. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate you coming over here to talk. It's…" He runs a hand through his dark copper hair. "It's a lot more than I could have hoped for or deserve."

Not sure what to say, I just go with, "You're welcome."

Edward nods and starts hobbling away from me, past an old blue couch that's worn around the edges. He stops when he gets to a gap in the wall where the hallway is. "Sorry. I kind of have to lay down, and the couch isn't really long enough," he says, inclining his head in what I assume is the direction of his bedroom.

Shit. His bedroom.

No, no, no, no, no.

Clearly, I did _not_ think this through.

* * *

**Next chapter will bring answers from Edward. Thank you for reading! xoxo **


	9. Opening up

**This chapter was kind of a bear, but I finally wrestled it into submission. Thank you for your patience. And thank you all SO much for reading and for leaving me your thoughts. I forgot to mention in the last chapter's a/n how much I was laughing at the sheer number of reviews for chapter 7 that contained the word splainin', LOL. You guys are awesome. :))**

**Huge thanks go out to Sophiacorgi, Twilly, and my special guest pre-reader, KniNut, for helping me with this chapter. It was a frustrating one for me, and they've been just amazing. **

**SM owns all things Twilight. Everything else is mine, including any mistakes. **

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**Chapter 9 - Opening up**

Edward's bedroom is small but clean like the rest of his house. A double bed takes up most of the space, flanked by two nightstands and covered in a plain dark blue comforter. A tall dresser stands against a side wall, but that's it. No chair in sight.

"I'm sorry. I know this isn't ideal," Edward says, watching me survey the room. He walks slowly over to the bed, and with several pained grunts and groans that pull at my chest, he gets himself stretched out onto his side.

"It's okay," I answer quietly before walking to the other side of the bed and sitting cross-legged to face him. I'm about as far back as I can be without falling off.

My trepidation in coming into his room had nothing to do with sex. I know he'll be out of commission for a while (a thought that's accompanied by another pang of guilt even though it was an accident). It's that being in someone's bedroom implies a certain level of intimacy, which of course we shared in mine, but that side of our relationship, or lack thereof, pretty much got blown to bits when he vanished. And now I'm having to share his most personal space in order to have this conversation.

Sure, I could have insisted we do it over the phone, but I somehow knew that wouldn't be enough. I realized I need to see in his eyes if he's sincere. I caught glimpses a few days ago at the hospital, the vulnerability in his deep green eyes, and that's what ultimately made me want to give him a chance to explain. His confident words and subsequent exit stage left may have suggested that he's a cocky player, but I'm starting to think that's not who he is at all. The fact is, though, I don't really know. I don't know who he is, because he didn't want me to.

I need answers, and if he can't give them to me today, when I've made the effort to come to him, then I'm done.

"I know you're probably tired of hearing this from me," Edward starts, and I look up from where I've been staring at my twisting hands in my lap, "but I have to start out by saying again how sorry I am. It was… stupid to think you wouldn't be hurt by what I did." His gaze goes to the comforter underneath us. "I didn't think—"

My hand goes up in front of me. "Wait… You didn't think I'd be hurt by your disappearing act after I'd shared myself with you the way I did? You think I just jump into bed with any man who walks up to my door? What..." My head shakes in disbelief, and I know I must be giving him the _you're an idiot_ look.

"_No_. I don't think that at all. It was…" He exhales a heavy breath, bringing his apologetic eyes back to mine. "The longer I laid there with you in your bed, the more I realized I'd never fit in to your life. And I was sure you knew that too. I had myself convinced that you were just fulfilling a fantasy or something—slumming it with the blue collar guy that you could 'climb like a tree', and then you'd go back to your regular life filled with fancy coffee machines and fancy degrees." He shakes his head, dropping his eyes again. "Alice told me I was an idiot for thinking that, but you have to understand, at the time, I really believed it. I _still _don't believe I'd fit in to your life. I mean, I didn't even finish high school, for fuck's sake. What the hell would you want with a guy like me?"

The vulnerability is once again clear in his eyes, and although I've been trying like hell to hold on to a little bit of my anger toward him, he's kind of breaking my heart right now. "Edward… I felt a real connection with you. And I thought you felt it too. Despite how it might have seemed, I _don't_ do things like that with just anyone. You and I have history, however unknown it was at the time, y'know?"

Edward's eyes plead with me to understand. "I _did_ feel it, Bella. It was fucking amazing, but I convinced myself it was one-sided. And it wasn't because I thought you'd do those things with just anyone. It was because I knew you could do so much better than me." I scoff at him, but he continues. "You'd never looked twice at me in high school, and the way you looked at me that day… I couldn't resist taking whatever you were willing to give me. But I knew it couldn't last."

"How could you possibly know that? You didn't even give us a chance."

He's propped up on his elbow, and his free hand clenches into a fist and loosens a couple times. "I know. It's just… Still… I have no idea why you'd want to be with someone like me."

My exasperation must be written all over my face. "Stop it with that. What do you mean, 'someone like you'?" My air quotes are mocking.

Edward lets out a frustrated sigh. "I'm just not… good. I fuck everything up. Obviously," he mumbles, adding, "Always have."

My head tilts to the side, and I wait. When he doesn't go on, I say, "I can't imagine that's true, but I'm listening."

He finally glances up at me and runs his free hand through his hair, dropping it back down to pick at a loose thread in the comforter. "It's a long list," he says with a humorless chuckle. "You sure you want to hear this? I only wanted to apologize to you properly and explain. You don't have to stay. I—"

My hand covers his to stop its nervous movements, and I give him a soft, encouraging smile. "I said I'm listening."

Edward's heavy exhale blows across the top of my hand. "Some stuff is hard for me to talk about. There's a lot I'm still trying to make up for. It's… I mean, I've _killed _people."

Swallowing thickly, I nod. "I sort of assumed you might have, but you were at war, Edw—"

He's already shaking his head. "I mean before that."

My brows furrow, and on instinct, I lean away from him a little, removing my hand from his. "Before that? What—"

Edward takes in a shaky breath and exhales. "Okay. I guess I'm diving right in here." He looks up at me again. "I'm sure you noticed I was pretty poor growing up, always wearing the same worn jeans and sneakers?"

It comes out like a question, and I shake my head. The truth is, we didn't share any classes, and I had no real reason to notice something like that.

"Really? It's what most people made fun of me for. Well, that and the acne and the braces and the hair." He rolls his eyes.

"I never made fun of you."

"I know," Edward murmurs with a hint of a smile that dissipates almost instantly. "Anyway, we lived in a tiny wooden house, kind of like this one, and my dad was a real tightwad asshole. Even when he had money, he'd never spend it on me. I only got the braces because my mom's insurance covered them, and she said she wanted her 'beautiful boy to shine'." He uses air quotes with a playful eyeroll, and that ghost of a smile returns to his face for a moment but fades again quickly. "She was the only reason I never ran away from home," he continues quietly. "She made my crappy life bearable, kept me sane through all the bullshit, y'know?" The tears I see gathering in his eyes make my own water. "The winter of my senior year, I was so tired of the house being so damn cold. The bastard would barely let us run the heat, and we didn't risk it, even when he wasn't home." His jaw clenches, his nostrils flaring as he takes in a deep breath. "I had a buddy of mine take me to a flea market after school one day, and I found a couple of cheap space heaters. I thought I could keep one and give the other to my mom, but since she wasn't home yet, I plugged them both into the outlet across from my bed and laid down. It was fucking heaven. But then…" His eyes glaze over with a memory as his eyebrows draw together. "I'd dozed off and woke up a while later to a smoke-filled room, and of course I panicked. Flames were already licking up the wall, and I could hear my mom's shower running just on the other side of it." A tear splashes onto his cheek, and I cover my mouth to hold back any sounds that might escape me. "I tried to put it out, but I only seemed to make it worse. She couldn't hear me screaming at her to get out of the house."

"Oh, God," I whimper with my hand still covering my mouth. "She died?"

Edward looks up at me then, his haunted eyes almost seeming to come out of a trance. "Aw, fuck. I'm sorry." He moves his hand up to wipe at my tears with the back of his index finger. His touch is both soothing and unnerving. "She survived." He swallows audibly, not sounding nearly as relieved or happy about that as it seems like he should.

"Your dad?" I ask shakily.

"He wasn't home," he says, dropping his hand and his gaze again. "I, uh… The smoke was overwhelming me, and when I got out through my window, the firefighters were already there. I remember yelling for them to get my mom out and being so relieved when one of them handed her off to the EMTs through a window. But..." He swipes at one of the tears trailing down toward his beard. "The roof collapsed on the firefighter before he could get out, and the whole house, or what little was left of it, was engulfed in flames. I… I just remember standing in the yard, not being able to comprehend that our house was gone and that my mom was screaming in pain and that I'd _killed_ someone."

A gasp escapes as my hand drops from my mouth. "You did _not_. It was an accident."

"It doesn't matter if it was an accident or not." Edward's glassy eyes harden and turn angry. "That man, who had a wife and a young son, still died because of me. My mom was still horribly burned because of me. I may as well have killed her too."

"Edward…"

"My dad…" he continues as if I hadn't spoken. "He moved into an apartment and said I was on my own after that. My mom was in the hospital in a medically induced coma, and he wouldn't even let me see her." His fist clenches, and I have an overwhelming need to comfort him, so I cover it with my hand again. "I hadn't even finished high school yet, but I was already eighteen, so…"

"You enlisted."

He nods. "The army has a GED enlistment program, so that's what I did. Any extra money I had, I sent to my dad." He shrugs. "I didn't know how else to try to make up for everything I took from my parents. They lost _everything_ because I was too much of a pussy to just suck it up and be cold."

"Edward, you didn't do anything wrong. You can't be so hard on yourself."

"It doesn't _matter_," he shoots back, squeezing his eyes shut. "How could I be that stupid? Space heaters are a fucking disaster waiting to happen, not to mention two ancient, _used_ ones right next to each other."

"We don't always think things through when we're young. It's not—"

"Don't say it's not my fault," he says through clenched teeth. "It _is_. And I have to live with it every day. I have to live with the fact that my mother is disfigured and almost completely blind." A pang hits my stomach hard at that. "I have to live with the fact that by not _thinking things through_, a man was taken away from his family far too soon, and my dad is drinking himself to death because he can't deal. I just… How can I ever forgive myself for something like that?"

"Edward, listen to me." My hand squeezes his fist, and he loosens it and flips his hand so we're palm to palm. Tears leak out of the corners of his scrunched eyes before he opens them and focuses on me. The bright verdant green threatens to steal my breath, the pain in them unmistakable. "I can't begin to understand what you've been through. But I know it's not easy—forgiving yourself. I know what it's like to feel guilt over someone's death."

"You do?"

"Mmhmm. My mom…" I swallow against the dryness in my throat. "She couldn't handle being a mom. It just wasn't really in her, y'know? She would leave my dad all the time, going off and doing God knows what." I shake my head. "He took great care of me, but it wore on him. She'd inevitably decide she missed him and come back." I sigh, remembering how excited he'd get, thinking _this_ time was the time things would be okay. "He _always_ took her back. He loved her so damn much." Edward's hand squeezes mine lightly. "The last time she left, I was a freshman in college. And when Dad found out she'd run off and married some baseball player half his age, it absolutely broke him." A whimper leaves my mouth as I try to hold back a sob, and Edward's eyes find my face again. My gaze drops to our joined hands. "He was so depressed, and he got really drunk one night and got behind the wheel. Um… he h-hit a tree and died on impact." Sniffling, I swipe at the tears trailing down my cheeks.

"I'm so sorry, Bella. The way you talked about him, I assumed he was still alive." Our eyes connect again, and his are still teary and a more brilliant shade of green than I've seen before. "You can't blame yourself for that, though," he says. "Your mom was only thinking about herself."

"Still." I shrug one shoulder. "She left because of me. Or at least that was what she said. She said she loved me, but she just wasn't meant to be a mother."

"That was shitty of her."

"That's putting it mildly."

Edward nods. "I'm thankful my mom's still alive. It's just hard to see her the way she is now and not feel that crippling guilt. She says the same as you—not to blame myself. She says she forgives me, but…" He shakes his head like he's never believed her.

He probably hasn't.

I want nothing more than to press my whole body against his to bring him a modicum of comfort, but I settle for scooting closer and maneuvering my hand to where I can thread our fingers together.

Edward stares at our entwined hands for a moment.

When he speaks again, it's shaky, like he's a lost little boy, and I guess, in a way, he is. "I don't get to see her much, even now that I'm out of the service. She's almost completely reliant upon my dad, and if I thought he didn't like me much before the fire…" He shakes his head and blows a puff of air out of his nose. "I hadn't seen anything yet." His chest expands with a deep breath. "Mom and I sometimes talk on the phone when he's not home, but he's home almost all the time now that he's lost his job. He always drank, but now it's pretty much all day, every day." I squeeze his hand, and he rewards me with a grateful, if fleeting smile. "She gets some disability pay, but it's not enough, so I still send them as much money as I can, but... I worry about her a lot."

My thumb sweeps back and forth across the skin of his hand. My brain is telling me I should pull my hand away; it's too intimate, too soon, but I don't want to. We're connecting on a much deeper level than I ever thought possible, and we need the contact. Or at least, I know _I_ do. "Of course you do, Edward. I'm so sorry."

"Please, Bella. I can't take you apologizing to me. I'm the shitty person here. Not you."

"You're _not_." I shake my head at him. "You've been dealt a shitty hand, but that doesn't make you a shitty person."

"Doesn't disappearing on you like I did make me a shitty person, though?"

My shoulders slump with a sigh. "As much as I wanted to believe that, I'm having a hard time with it now."

One corner of Edward's mouth tilts up for second. "I'm so sorry I did that to you, Bella. That day was just so fucking perfect, I thought there was no way it was real and definitely no way I could keep you. I figured you'd only called to bitch me out or to tell me I left my shirt or some shit. I don't know." He pulls his hand from mine to run through his hair but then presses it right back to my waiting palm. "And the longer I put off calling you back, the more I convinced myself you didn't want to hear from me anyway. I had Jasper take me off your route so I wouldn't be tempted to stop and try to see you. I was sure you wouldn't want anything to do with the pimply kid who was in love with the perfect girl in high school, the guy who has almost nothing to offer you now." He gestures to our surroundings, and I remember Alice whispering about his embarrassment of his small, somewhat run-down house.

"There's nothing wrong with your house," I tell him with a shake of my head. His eyebrows lift as if to say _yeah, right_, but I ignore it. Entwining our fingers again, I lean toward him. "All I wanted from you was _you_, Edward." Before I do something crazy like kiss him, I sit back up. "Now I kind of understand why you wouldn't open up much before. You had me on some kind of ridiculous pedestal. But I'm just a regular girl, with regular feelings." I shrug, looking down at his large hand in mine. "Feelings for you."

His body sags in relief. "I want you to know me, Bella, if that's what you want."

"I really do. And not just because I'm inquisitive," I joke, attempting to lighten the mood a bit.

Edward lets out a soft chuckle and squeezes my hand. "Don't you mean nosy?"

"Yeah, yeah. Semantics." I poke him in the shoulder, and he laughs harder.

His face turns serious, and he starts stroking my wrist with his thumb, sending tingles up my arm. "Connecting with you like that and then being away from you was…" His features pull together, and the pain is clear, etched right there into the lines of his face. "Every single day, I wanted to go to your house or the coffee shop, drop to my knees, and beg you for another chance. I wanted you… _want_ you so fucking much. I just never thought…" He shakes his head and locks eyes with me, making my breath stutter at their beauty. "I think my willpower would've broken sooner, but the anniversary of the fire hit me harder than usual this year. And my dad's just been getting worse and worse, and… I'm sorry it took me so long." He takes a breath, and his brows relax as light dances in his eyes, the likes of which I haven't seen a glimpse of since that day. "And I'm sorry it took Alice kicking my ass to dislodge my head from it."

I laugh at the image in my mind of tiny little Alice bossing this giant of a man around. Edward lets out a laugh too, rubbing his chest where his sore nipple must be.

"I needed it," he says, serious again. "She made me understand that you must have felt used, and that was the absolute last thing I ever wanted to make you feel, Bella. I'm just… I'm no good at relationships. I've tried a couple times, but I always fuck things up, or I'm just not good enough, or… I don't know. I obviously don't have a lot of money, and my life's kind of fucked up. I'm bad about closing myself off. It's… I think I assumed you'd drop me like a bad habit once you got to know the real me."

My eyebrows lift. "And this assumption was based on an assumption you made about the type of person I am? Or was in high school?"

"Uh…" Edward scratches at the scruff lining his jaw. "I guess so."

"So you assumed I was shallow." It's not a question.

"I… guess." He pulls a face. "I'm sorry. I just felt so invisible in high school, especially to you."

"And because I was practically salivating over you the way you are now, you assumed I would never have wanted you the way you were then."

"Something like that."

A frustrated noise leaves my throat. "But you never asked me out back then. How do you know I wouldn't have said yes?"

Edward gives me a dubious look. "Oh, come on, Bella. You had every guy in that school lusting after you."

My look is just as dubious, my eyebrows rising up in disbelief. "Even if that's true, which I highly doubt, so what? I only had one boyfriend during high school. I didn't even date anyone my senior year." I duck my head. "I always thought you had beautiful eyes."

"Really?"

Nodding, I shift and lie down on my side to face him, our hands still connected between us. "Really."

"It's still hard for me sometimes to remember I'm not that skinny, pimply kid anymore. I mean, I looked like Shaggy from Scooby Doo, for fuck's sake."

We both laugh, and it feels good. There's been so much heavy.

When our laughter's interrupted by scratching at the back door, I offer to let his dog in so he doesn't have to get up again.

As soon as I crack the door open, Bree pushes her dark nose through, followed by her golden body, instantly circling me and sniffing my feet. Her long tail whacks me in the legs over and over as it wags happily. "Hey, girl," I say softly, bending down to pet her. Her brown eyes connect with mine just before she slimes my face with her long tongue, right up my chin, over my lips and nose, and into my hair. "Blech," I sputter, standing and moving to the small kitchen to grab a paper towel. After wiping my face off, I walk back to Edward's room with Bree hot on my heels, still busy sniffing me.

"Everything okay?" Edward asks over his shoulder as we walk in.

"Yeah," I say on a laugh. "Your dog just decided she wanted to make out with me."

He chuckles. "Can't say I blame her."

My eyebrows lift at him, but the smile doesn't leave my face.

The tips of his ears turn pink, and he gives me a little shrug as if to say it couldn't be helped. "Anyway, I did warn you." He smirks, and I want to kiss it right off his face.

"Uh-huh. Overly friendly, my ass." I point at Bree. "You need to work on your boundary issues." She cocks her head at me and wags her tail, making my fake stern face crack into a smile.

Edward laughs again and pats the side of the bed. He winces as Bree bounds right over to him, pressing herself against the bed with her head next to his back, but he reaches behind himself the best he can to pet her.

Glancing at my watch, I let out a sigh. "I need to leave soon so I can make it to class on time." Edward's face falls, but he recovers quickly and nods. "Can I get you anything from the kitchen before I go so you don't have to get up?"

"Um… That would be great, actually. Some milk for my day-old, complementary muffin would be awesome." He shoots me a cheesy grin, still craning his neck.

"Oh, shut it. I vomit words when I'm nervous."

He shakes his head. "You shouldn't have been nervous, Bella. I'm the one who fucked up."

"Says the guy who's laid up because I mowed him down with my car." I smirk.

"I _knew_ it."

We both bust up laughing, and Bree looks between the two of us, her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth and her tail thumping the floor.

"Do you need help turning to your other side so you can use your nightstand?" I'm not sure where that came from, but I already miss touching him.

Edward gives me an easy smile. "Sure. Thanks."

I don't know how helpful I'll actually be since he's so much bigger than me, but I step over and lean down toward him, reaching across his chest to place one hand on his bottom shoulder and my other on the top one. His breathing picks up, much like mine at our proximity. My face is so close to his head, I could press my lips against the warm skin of his neck if I moved forward another inch or two. He smells incredible, and I have to close my eyes for a second to get my bearings. The muscles under my hands bunch and loosen as he shifts, and when he makes it onto his back, our eyes connect, making my heart falter and flip-flop in my chest. My useless hands are still on his shoulders, our faces only inches apart.

I could kiss him so easily right now.

His eyes dip down to my lips. "I didn't really need help," he whispers.

"I know."

Edward smirks, and his eyes are hooded and dangerous. The magnetic pull between us brings me in even closer, and he licks his lips. Mesmerized, I realize I'm staring at them, waiting for… something.

The shrill ringtone of his phone breaks the trance, and I straighten up, removing my hands from him as he groans.

"Sorry," he says, glancing at the screen. "I need to take this."

"Okay, I'll just…" I jerk my thumb over my shoulder.

"Masen," he says in greeting, and I instantly know it's not a personal call. Maybe it shouldn't make me feel better, but it does.

Stepping back into his kitchen, I go to his old refrigerator and pull out the milk. I spot some jelly and decide to make him a pb & j as well.

Once I have everything together, I walk back to his room just as he's finishing up his call.

"Will do. Thanks, Chief."

That piques my curiosity because my dad was the chief of police in the small town we lived in back in Nebraska before we moved to Kansas City.

Edward looks up at me, now turned fully onto his right side. "Sorry about that. I'd called my fire chief the day of the accident, but he hadn't gotten back to me yet."

"Your fire chief?" I ask as I set his plate and drink down.

"Oh." He ducks his head. "Yeah. I'm a volunteer firefighter on the weekends. It's one of the ways I'm trying to make up for… everything." He shrugs one shoulder. "If I can give a firefighter with a family some time off here and there or be there to help save someone from going through what my mom did, or worse…" His cheeks pink up just as my eyes tear up.

This man is so sweet. How could he ever think I wouldn't want him?

"Thank you for this," he says, indicating the sandwich.

"You're welcome." I chew on my thumbnail for a minute, debating. "I should go, but… I just want you to know that I think you're an amazing person, Edward."

His face falls. "Oh. Are you giving me the, 'you're a great person, but we're better off as friends' speech?"

"What? No." Shaking my head, I gingerly sit on the edge of the bed, trying not to jostle him. "Well, not exactly. It's just something you need to hear because you don't see yourself clearly at all. And I do think we should become friends, but I'm also hoping for more than that." Edward's eyebrows lift as hope floods his eyes. "Maybe not right away, but I promise not to friendzone you," I joke.

"Ha ha."

"But seriously. I know how hard it must have been for you to open up to me the way you did today, and I really appreciate that. I already feel like I know you so much better now." I place my hand on his bicep. "I have to say, one way or another, I think we're gonna be okay."

"You do?"

"I do."

A slow smile creeps over his lips, spreading wide until he's full-on grinning. I sigh and run a fingertip over the crinkles by his left eye. I missed those.

Edward wraps his hand around my wrist, bringing it to his face and kissing my palm. When he releases me, I run my hand down the side of his face, leaning in to place a kiss on the corner of his jaw. He sucks in a breath, fisting the comforter in his hand.

"I better go," I murmur into his ear.

He nods as I stand up. "Thank you, Bella. For coming here, for being willing to even talk to me. I still think you're way too good for me—" I click my tongue at him, and he smirks. "—but I'll do everything in my power to be the man you deserve."

My smile can't be stopped. "Starting by _finally _showing me your tattoos?"

Edward laughs, and I revel in the sound. "Yes, Miss Nosy. I'll tell you all about them. But maybe next time. I don't want you to be late."

"Next time, huh?"

"Well… yeah." I see the doubt creep back into his green irises. "You _are_ coming back, right?"

Tapping my chin, I look up at the ceiling. "Hmm. I'll think about it."

I spin on my heel, but he obviously catches the smile on my face because his beautiful laughter follows me out of his room.

Yeah.

He knows I'll be back.

* * *

**Thank you so much for reading. xoxo**

**I have a few recs for you guys. (all WIPs)**

**The Love Boat****by Twilly - ****Love, exciting and new. Come Aboard. We're expecting you. Love, life's sweetest reward. Let it flow, it floats back to you. Best friends, a childhood crush, a free cruise, and a ship full of swingers. - **This is unlike anything I've read before. It makes me laugh out loud constantly. Bella is quirky and a little neurotic, and Edward is hot and swoony. The lemons are just… gah! Don't miss the boat on this one!

**Omens****by MissJanuary - One hundred years of swirling, living ink. Layers of words, history unravelling on skin. Tattward and Inkella. Not a fairytale. - **This story is unique and incredibly intriguing so far. The writing astounds me, and I absolutely cannot wait to see how it unfolds. Please check it out and leave her some love!

**I Belong With You****by twilightladies - In those moments, I realize it's over. Planning to follow you to the same college is not an option. I can't be near you and watch you love another. With one last glance at my past, I turn and go back the way I came. I don't see you turning around or the smile that falls from your face when you see me. - **I don't want to give anything away, but this story is just lovely. Bella's been hurt, but she's doing her best to move on and grow stronger, leaving behind all she knows and starting fresh. Please give it a read!


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